Division         IBS4S  I 

?.3 ;  2. 


EXPOSITIONS  OF  HOLY  SCRIPTURE 


Expositions  of 

Holy  Scripture 

BY  THE 

V 

Rev.  Alexander  Maclaren,  D.D.,  LittD. 

A  Complete  Commentary  on  the  Bible  in  Thirty 
Volumes,  to  be  pubhshed  in  Annual  Series  of  Six 
Volumes. 

"Z'r.  Alexander  Maclaren  is  the  Prince  of  Ex' 
positors,  and  the  present  idea  of  gathering  the  creatn 
of  his  expository  genius  is  a  fitting  climax  to  his 
splendid  contributions  to  Scripture  Exposition." 


First  Series,  Six  Volumes,  Comprising: 

The  Book  of  Genesis 

The  Prophecies  of  Isaiah 

The  Prophecies  of  Isaiah  (Chapters 
XLIX-LXVI),  and  the  Proph- 
ecies of  Jeremiah 

The  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew 

(Three  Volumes) 

"It  is  a  matter  for  deep  satisfaction  that  Dr.  Mac- 
laren's  Expositions  are  to  be  collected  and  arranged  in 
permanent  form.  Unless  we  are  very  much  mistaken,  they 
will  have  a  permanent  place  in  the  library  alike  of  thought- 
ful laymen  and  of  preachers  generally." — British  Weekly, 

Dr.  Alexander  MaclaretC s  iticomparable  posi- 
tion as  the  Prince  of  Expositors  has  for  more  than  a 
generation  been  recognized  th7  oughout  the  English- 
speaking  world.  He  holds  an  unchallenged  position 
and  it  is  believed  that  this  series,  embodying  as  it 
does  the  treasure  store  of  Dr.  Maclaren' s  life  work, 
will  be  found  of  priceless  value  by  preachers,  teach- 
ers, and  readers  of  the  Bible  generally . 


New  York:  A.  C.  ARMSTRONG  &  SON 


THE   BOOKS   OF 

ISAIAH    AND 
JEREMIAH 

ISAIAH,  CHAPS.  XLIX.  TO  LXVI. 
JEREMIAH 

BY 

ALEXANDER    MACLAREN 

D.D.,  Lm\  D. 


'^<!:*i'ki^^  N*^ 


NEW  YORK 

A.  C.  ARMSTRONG  AND  SON 

3  &  5  WEST  EIGHTEENTH  STREET 

LONDON :  HODDER  AND  STOUGHTON 

MCMVI 


Copyright,  1906,  by 
A.  C.  ARMSTRONG  AND  SON 


Published,  Janxmry,  1906 


1/ 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Feeding  in  the  Ways  (Isaiah  xlix.  9) 1 

The  Mountain  Road  (Isaiah  xlix.  11) 7 

The  Writing  on  God's  Hands  (Isaiah  xlix.  16)      .        .        .        .9 
The  Servant's  Words  to  the  Weary  (Isaiah  1.  4)        .        .        .15 

The  Servant's  Obedience  (Isaiah  1.  5) 20 

The  Servant's  Voluntary  Sufferings  (Isaiah  1.  6)       .        .        .22 
The  Servant's  Inflexible  Resolve  (Isaiah  1.  7)  .        .        .        .26 

The  Servant's  Triumph  (Isaiah  1.  8,  9) 31 

A  Call  to  Faith  (Isaiah  1.  10) 39 

Dying  Fires  (Isaiah  1.  11) 47 

The  Awakening  of  Zion  (Isaiah  lii.  1) 51 

A  Paradox  op  Selling  and  Buying  (Isaiah  lii.  3)         ...    71 

Clean  Carriers  (Isaiah  lii.  11) 75 

Marching  Orders  (Isaiah  lii.  11, 12) 78 

V 


VI 


THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH 


The  Arm  of  the  Lord  (Isaiah  liii.  1) 

The  Suffering  Servant — I.  (Isaiah  liii.  2,  3) 

The  Suffering  Servant — II.  (Isaiah  liii.  4-6) 

The  Suffering  Servant — III.  (Isaiah  liii.  7-9) 

The  Suffering  Servant — IV.  (Isaiah  liii.  10) . 

The  Suffering  Servant — V.  (Isaiah  liii.  11)  . 

The  Suffering  Servant — VI.  (Isaiah  liii.  12) . 

The  Passing  and  the  Permanent  (Isaiah  liv.  10) 

The  Call  to  the  Thirsty  (Isaiah  Iv.  1-13)     . 

The  Great  Proclamation  (Isaiah  Iv.  1)  . 

God's  Ways  and  Man's  (Isaiah  Iv.  8,  9)  . 

Can  we  make  sure  of  To-morrow?  (Isaiah  Ivi.  12) 

Flimsy  Garments  (Isaiah  lix.  6 ;  Rev.  iii.  18)   . 

The  Sunlit  Church  (Isaiah  Ix.  1-3) 

Walls  and  Gates  (Isaiah  Ix.  18)      . 

The  Joy-Bringer  (Isaiah  Ix'i.  3)       .        .        .        . 


page 
.  88 


.  92 

.  97 
.  103 
.  108 
.  113 
.  117 
.  125 
.  134 
.  142 
.  152 
.  162 
.  174 
.  176 
.  188 
.  191 


The  Heavenly  Workers  and  the  Earthly  Watchers  (Isaiah 
Ixii.  1,  6,  7) 200 

Mighty  to  Save  (Isaiah  Ixiii.  1) 217 

The  Winepress  and  its  Treader  (Isaiah  Ixiii.  2,  3)      .        .        .  221 


CONTENTS  vii 

PA«E 

The  Sympathy  of  God  (Isaiah  Ixiii.  9) 226 

How  TO  Meet  God  (Isaiah  Ixiv.  5)  . 231 

'The  God  of  the  Amen'  (Isaiah  Ixv.  16) 237 

THE   BOOK   OF   JEREMIAH 

God's  Lawsuit  (Jer.  ii.  9) 245 

Stiff-necked  Idolaters  and  Pliable  Christians  (Jer.  ii.  11)        .  246 

Fountain  and  Cisterns  (Jer.  ii.  13) 249 

Forsaking  Jehovah  (Jer.  ii.  19) 252 

A  Colloquy  between  a  Penitent  and  God  (Jer.  iii.  21,  22)         .  254 

A  Question  for  the  Beginning  (Jer.  v.  31) 257 

Possessing  and  Possessed  (Jer.  x.  16,  R.V.) 268 

Calms  and  Crises  (Jer.  xii.  5,  R.V.)         ...  ...  272 

An  Impossibility  made  Possible  (Jer.  xiii.  23;  2  Cor.  v.  17;  Rev. 
xxi.  5) 274 

Triumphant  Prayer  (Jer.  xiv.  7-9) 281 

Sin's  Writing  and  its  Erasure  (Jer.  xvii.  1;  2  Cor.  iii.  3;  Col.  ii. 
14) 294 

The  Heath  in  the  Desert  and  the  Tree  by  the  Riveb  (Jer. 

xvii.  6, 8) .        .302 

A  Soul  Gazing  on  God  (Jer.  xvii.  12) 311 

Two  Lists  of  Names  (Jer.  xvii.  13;  Luke  x.  20)     .        .       .        .  319 


viii  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH 

PAGE 

Yokes  of  Wqod  and  of  Iron  (Jer.  xxviii.  13)  ...  .  322 
What  the  Stable  Creation  Teaches  (Jer.  xxxi.  36)  .  .  .  332 
What  the  Immense  Creation  Teaches  (Jer.  xxxi.  37)  .  .  ,  336 
A  Threefold  Disease  and  a  Twofold  Cure  (Jer.  xxxiii.  8)         .  340 

The  Rechabites  (Jer.  xxxv.  16) 351 

Jeremiah's  Roll  Burned  and  Reproduced  (Jer.  xxxvi.  32).        .  353 

Zedekiah  (Jer.  xxxvii.  1) 357 

The  World's  Wages  to  a  Prophet  (Jer.  xxxvii.  11-21)        .        .  361 

The  Last  Agony  (Jer.  xxxix.  1-10) ,  367 

Ebedmelech  the  Ethiopian  (Jer.  xxxix.  18) 374 

God's  Patient  Pleadings  (Jer.  xliv.  4) 377 

The  Sword  of  the  Lord  (Jer.  xlvii.  6,  7) 380 

The  Kinsman-Redeemer  (Jer.  1.  34) 385 

'Aa  Sodom'  (Jer.  lii.  1-11) 398 


FEEDING  IN   THE   WAYS 

'They  shall  feed  in  the  ways,  and  their  pastures  shall  be  in  all  high  places.' 

Isaiah  xlix.  9. 

This  is  part  of  the  prophet's  glowing  description  of 
the  return  of  the  Captives,  under  the  figure  of  a  flock 
fed  by  a  strong  shepherd.  We  have  often  seen,  I  sup- 
pose, a  flock  of  sheep  driven  along  a  road,  some  of  them 
hastily  trying  to  snatch  a  mouthful  from  the  dusty  grass 
by  the  wayside.  Little  can  they  get  there;  they  have 
to  wait  until  they  reach  some  green  pasture  in  which 
they  can  be  folded.  This  flock  shall  'feed  in  the  ways  ' ; 
as  they  go  they  will  find  nourishment.  That  is  not  all ; 
the  top  of  the  mountains  is  not  the  place  where  grass 
grows.  There  are  bare,  savage  cliffs,  from  which  every 
particle  of  soil  has  been  washed  by  furious  torrents,  or 
the  scanty  vegetation  has  been  burnt  up  by  the  fierce 
'sunbeams  like  swords.'  There  the  wild  deer  and  the 
ravens  live,  the  sheep  feed  down  in  the  valleys.  But 
*^^ezr  pasture  shall  be  in  all  high  places.'  The  literal 
rendering  is  even  more  emphatic :  '  Their  pasture  shall 
be  in  all  hare  heights, '  where  a  sudden  verdure  springs 
to  feed  them  according  to  their  need.  Whilst,  then,  this 
prophecy  is  originally  intended  simply  to  suggest  the 
abundant  supplies  that  were  to  be  provided  for  the 
band  of  exiles  as  they  came  back  from  Babylon,  there 
lie  in  it  great  and  blessed  principles  which  belong  to  the 
Christian  pilgrimage,  and  the  flock  that  follows  Christ. 

VOL.  n.  A 


^  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  xlix. 

They  who  follow  Him,  says  my  text,  to  begin  with, 
shall  find  in  the  dusty  paths  of  common  life,  and  in  all 
the  smallnesses  and  distractions  of  daily  duty,  nourish- 
ment for  their  spirits.  Do  you  remember  what  Jesus 
said?  'My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  Me, 
and  to  finish  His  work. '  We,  too,  may  have  the  same 
meat  to  eat  which  the  world  knows  not  of,  and  He  will 
give  that  hidden  manna  to  the  combatant  as  well  as 
'  to  him  that  overcometh. '  In  the  measure  in  which 
*  we  follow  the  Lamb  whithersoever  He  goetli, '  in  that 
measure  do  we  find — like  the  stores  of  provisions  that 
Arctic  explorers  come  upon,  cached  for  them — food  in 
the  wilderness,  and  nourishment  for  our  highest  life  in 
our  common  work.  That  is  a  great  promise,  and  it  is  a 
great  duty. 

It  is  a  promise  the  fulfilment  of  which  is  plainly 
guaranteed  by  the  very  nature  of  the  case.  Eeligion 
is  meant  to  direct  conduct,  and  the  smallest  affairs  of 
life  are  to  come  under  its  imperial  control,  and  the 
only  way  by  which  a  man  can  get  any  good  out  of  his 
Christianity  is  by  living  it.  It  is  when  he  sets  to  work 
on  the  principles  of  the  Gospel  that  the  Gospel  proves 
itself  to  be  a  reality  in  his  blessed  experience.  It  is 
when  he  does  the  smallest  duties  from  the  great  mo- 
tives that  these  great  motives  are  strengthened  by  ex- 
ercise, as  every  motive  is.  If  you  wish  to  weaken  the 
influence  of  any  principle  upon  you,  do  not  work  it  out, 
and  it  will  wither  and  die.  If  a  man  would  grasp 
the  fulness  of  spiritual  sustenance  which  lies  in  the 
Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  let  him  go  to  work  on  the  basis 
of  the  Gospel,  and  he  '  shall  feed  in  the  ways, '  and 
common  duties  will  minister  strength  to  him  instead  of 
taking  strength  from  him.     We  can  make  the  smallest 


V.9]  FEEDING  IN  THE  WAYS  3 

daily  incidents  subserve  our  growth  and  our  spiritual 
strength,  because,  if  we  thus  do  them,  they  will  bring 
to  us  attestations  of  the  reality  of  the  faith  by  which 
we  act  on  them.  For  convincing  a  man  that  a  life- 
buoy is  reliable  there  is  nothing  like  having  had  ex- 
perience of  its  power  to  hold  his  head  above  the  waves 
when  he  has  been  cast  into  them.  Live  your  Chris- 
tianity, and  it  will  attest  itself.  There  will  come,  be- 
sides that,  the  blessed  memory  of  past  times  in  which 
we  trusted  in  the  Lord  and  were  lightened,  we  obeyed 
God  and  found  His  promises  true,  we  risked  all  for 
God  and  found  that  we  had  all  more  abundantly.  It 
is  only  an  active  Christian  life  that  is  a  nourished  and 
growing  Christian  life. 

The  food  which  God  gives  us  is  not  only  to  be  taken 
by  faith,  but  it  has  to  be  made  ours  more  abundantly 
by  work.  Saint  Augustine  said  in  another  connection, 
'  Believe,  and  thou  hast  eaten. '  Yes,  that  is  blessedly 
true,  but  it  needs  to  be  supplemented  by  '  they  shall 
feed  in  the  ways,''  and  their  work  will  bring  them 
nourishment. 

But  this  is  a  great  duty  as  well  as  a  great  promise. 
How  many  of  us  Christian  people  have  but  little  ex- 
perience of  getting  nearer  to  God  because  of  our  daily 
occupations?  To  by  far  the  larger  number  of  us,  in  by 
far  the  greater  space  of  time  in  our  lives,  our  daily 
work  is  a  distraction,  and  tends  to  obscure  the  face  of 
God  to  us  and  to  shut  us  out  from  many  of  the  store- 
houses of  sustenance  by  which  a  quiet,  contemplative 
faith  is  refreshed.  Therefore  we  need  times  of  special 
prayer  and  remoteness  from  daily  work ;  and  there  will 
be  very  little  realisation  of  the  nourishing  power  of 
common  duties  unless  there  is  familiar  to  us  also  the 


4  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  xlix. 

entrance  into  the  '  secret  place  of  the  Most  High, '  where 
He  feeds  His  children  on  the  bread  of  life. 

We  must  not  neglect  either  of  these  two  ways  by 
which  our  souls  are  fed,  and  we  must  ever  remember 
that  the  reason  why  so  many  Christian  people  cannot 
set  to  their  seal  that  this  promise  is  true,  lies  mainly 
in  this,  that  the  ways  on  which  they  go  are  either  not 
the  ways  that  the  Shepherd  has  walked  in  before 
them,  or  that  they  are  trodden  in  forgetfulness  of  Him 
and  without  looking  to  His  guidance.  The  work  that 
is  to  minister  to  the  Christian  life  must  be  work  con- 
formed to  the  Christian  ideal,  and  if  we  fling  ourselves 
into  our  secular  business,  as  it  is  called — if  you  go  to 
your  counting-houses  and  shops,  and  I  go  to  my  desk 
and  books,  and  forget  the  Shepherd — then  there  is  no 
grass  by  the  wayside  for  such  sheep.  But  if  we  subject 
our  wills  to  Him,  and  if  in  all  that  we  do  we  are  trying 
to  refer  to  Him  and  are  working  in  dependence  on 
Him,  and  for  Him,  then  the  poorest  work,  the  meanest, 
the  most  entirely  secular,  will  be  a  source  of  Christian 
nourishment  and  blessing.  We  have  to  settle  for  our- 
selves whether  we  shall  be  distracted,  torn  asunder  by 
pressure  of  cares  and  responsibilities  and  activities,  or 
whether,  far  below  the  agitated  surface  which  is 
ruffled  by  the  winds,  and  borne  along  by  the  tidal 
wave,  there  will  be  a  great  central  depth,  still  but  not 
stagnant — whether  we  shall  be  fed,  or  starved  in  our 
Christian  life,  by  the  pressure  of  our  worldly  tasks. 
The  choice  is  before  us.  '  They  shall  feed  in  the  ways, ' 
if  the  ways  are  Christ's  ways,  and  He  is  at  every  step 
their  Shepherd. 

Further,  my  text  suggests  that  for  those  who  follow 
the  Lamb  there  shall  be  greenness  and  pasture  on  the 


V.  9]  FEEDING  IN  THE  WAYS  5 

bare  heights.  Strip  that  part  of  our  text  of  its  meta- 
phor, and  it  just  comes  to  the  blessed  old  thought, 
which  I  hope  many  of  us  have  known  to  be  a  true  one, 
that  the  times  of  sorrow  are  the  times  when  a  Christian 
may  have  the  most  of  the  presence  and  strength  of 
God.  'In  the  days  of  famine  they  shall  be  satisfied,' 
and  up  among  the  most  barren  cliffs,  where  there  is 
not  a  bite  for  any  four-footed  creature,  they  shall  find 
springing  grass  and  watered  pastures.  Our  prophet  puts 
the  same  thought,  under  a  kindred  though  somewhat 
different  metaphor,  in  another  place  in  this  book,  where 
he  says,  '  I  will  open  rivers  in  high  places. '  That  is 
clean  contrary  to  nature.  The  rivers  do  not  run  on 
the  mountain-tops,  but  down  in  the  low  ground.  But 
for  us,  as  the  darkness  thickens,  the  pillar  may  glow  the 
brighter;  as  the  gloom  increases,  the  glory  may  grow; 
the  less  of  nutriment  or  refreshment  earth  affords,  the 
more  abundantly  does  God  spread  His  stores  before  us, 
if  we  are  wise  enough  to  take  them.  It  is  an  experi- 
ence, I  suppose,  common  to  all  devout  men,  that  their 
times  of  most  rapid  growth  were  their  times  of  trouble. 
In  nature  winter  stops  all  vegetable  life.  In  grace 
the  growing  time  is  the  winter.  They  tell  us  that 
up  in  the  Arctic  regions  the  reindeer  will  scratch  away 
the  snow,  and  get  at  the  succulent  moss  that  lies  be- 
neath it.  When  that  Shepherd,  Who  Himself  has 
known  sorrows,  leads  us  up  into  those  barren  regions 
of  perpetual  cold  and  snow.  He  teaches  us,  too,  how 
to  brush  it  away,  and  find  what  we  need  buried  and 
kept  safe  and  warm  beneath  the  white  shroud.  It  is 
the  prerogative  of  the  Christian  soul  not  to  be  without 
trouble,  but  to  turn  the  trouble  into  nourishment,  and 
to  feed  on  the  barest  heights. 


6  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  xlix. 

May  I  turn  these  latter  words  of  our  text  a  some- 
what different  way,  attaching  to  them  a  meaning 
which  does  not  belong  to  them,  but  by  way  of  accom- 
modation? If  Christian  people  want  to  have  the  bread 
of  God  abundantly,  they  must  climb.  It  is  to  those 
who  live  on  the  heights  that  provision  comes  according 
to  their  need.  If  you  would  have  your  Christian  life 
starved,  go  down  into  the  fertile  valleys.  Eemember 
Abraham  and  Lot,  and  the  choice  which  each  made. 
The  one  said :  '  I  want  cattle  and  wealth,  and  I  am 
going  down  to  Sodom.  Never  mind  about  the  vices  of 
the  inhabitants.  There  is  money  to  be  made  there.' 
Abraham  said :  '  I  am  going  to  stay  up  here  on  the 
heights,  the  breezy,  barren  heights,'  and  God  stayed 
beside  him.  If  we  go  down  we  starve  our  souls.  If  we 
desire  them  to  be  fat  and  flourishing,  nourished  with 
the  hidden  manna,  then  we  must  go  up.  '  Their  pas- 
ture shall  be  in  all  high  places. ' 

Before  I  finish,  let  me  remind  you  of  the  application 
of  the  words  of  my  text,  which  we  owe  to  the  New 
Testament.  The  context  runs,  as  you  will  remember, 
'  they  shall  not  hunger  nor  thirst,  neither  shall  the 
heat  nor  the  sun  smite  them.  For  He  that  hath  mercy 
on  them  shall  lead  them,  even  by  the  springs  of  water 
shall  He  guide  them.'  And  you  remember  the  beauti- 
ful variation  and  deepening  of  this  promise  in  that 
great  saying  which  the  Seer  in  the  Apocalypse  gives 
us,  when  he  speaks  of  those  '  who  follow  the  Lamb 
whithersoever  He  goeth, '  and  are  led  '  by  living  foun- 
tains of  water, '  where  '  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears 
from  their  eyes.'  So  we  are  entitled  to  believe  that 
on  the  loftiest  heights,  far  above  this  valley  of  weep- 
ing,  there  shall  be  immortal  food,   and   that  on   the 


V.9]  THE  MOUNTAIN  ROAD  7 

high  places  of  the  mountains  of  God  there  shall  be 
pasture  that  never  withers.  The  prophet  Ezekiel  has 
a  similar  variation  of  my  text,  and  transfers  it  from 
the  captives  on  their  march  homewards,  to  the  happy- 
pilgrims  who  have  reached  home,  when  he  says :  '  I  will 
bring  them  unto  their  own  land,  and  feed  them  upon 
the  mountains  of  Israel'  —  when  they  have  reached 
them  at  last  after  the  weary  march — '  I  will  feed  them 
in  a  good  pasture,  and  upon  the  mountains  of  Israel 
shall  their  fold  be ;  there  shall  they  lie  in  a  good  fold, 
and  in  a  fat  pasture  shall  they  feed  upon  the  mountains 
of  Israel. ' 

THE   MOUNTAIN   ROAD 

'And  I  will  make  all  My  mountains  a  way,  and  My  highways  shall  he 
exalted.' — Isaiah  xlix.  11. 

This  grand  prophecy  is  far  too  wide  to  be  exhausted 
by  the  return  of  the  exiles.  There  gleamed  through  it 
the  wider  redemption  and  the  true  return  of  the  real 
captives.  The  previous  promises  all  find  their  fulfil- 
ment in  the  experiences  of  the  soul  on  its  journey 
back  to  God.  Here  we  have  two  characteristics  of 
that  journey. 

I.  The  Path  through  the  mountains. 

^My  mountains.'  That  is  the  claim  that  all  the 
world  is  His;  and  also  the  revelation  that  He  is  the 
Lord  of  Providence.  He  makes  our  difficult  and  steep 
places.  Submission  comes  with  that  thought,  and  even 
*  for  the  strength  of  the  hills  we  bless  Thee. '  There 
are  mountains  which  are  not  His  but  ours,  artificial 
difficulties  of  our  own  creating. 

1.  Our  way  does  lie  over  the  mountains.  There  are 
difficulties.  The  Christian  course  is  like  a  Roman  road 
which  never  turned  aside,  but  went  straight  up  and  on. 


8  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  xlix. 

So  much  the  better.  A  keener  air  blows,  bracing  and 
health-giving,  up  there.  Mosquitoes  and  malaria  keep 
to  the  lower  levels. 

2.  There  is  always  a  path  over  the  mountains.  Some 
way  opens  when  we  get  close  up,  like  a  path  through 
heather,  which  is  not  seen  till  reached.  We  walk  by 
faith.  We  foolishly  forebode  and  fancy  that  we  can- 
not live  if  something  happens,  but  there  is  no  cul  de  sac 
in  our  paths  if  God's  mountain-way  is  our  way,  nor 
does  the  faint  track  ever  die  out  if  our  faith  is  keen- 
sighted  and  docile. 

II.  The  Pasture  on  the  mountains — lit.  '  bare  heights. ' 

Pastures  in  the  East  are  down  in  bottoms,  not,  like 
ours,  upon  the  hills.  But  this  flock  finds  supplies  on 
the  barren  hill-tops. 

Sustenance  in  Sorrow  and  Loss. 

1.  Promise  that  whatever  be  our  trials  and  losses  we 
shall  be  taken  care  of.  Not,  perhaps,  as  we  should  have 
liked,  nor  as  abundantly  fed  as  down  in  the  valleys, 
but  still  not  left  to  starve.  No  carcases  strewed  on  the 
bleakest  bit  of  road  as  one  sees  dead  camels  by  the  side 
of  the  tracks  in  the  desert. 

2.  Promise  of  sustenance  of  a  higher  kind  even  in 
sorrow.  The  Alpine  flora  is  specially  beautiful,  though 
minute.  The  blessings  of  affliction;  the  more  intimate 
knowledge  of  His  love,  submission  of  will.  '  Out  of  the 
eater  came  forth  meat. ' 

'  Passing  through  the  valley  of  weeping  they  make 
it  a  well ' ;  the  tears  shed  in  times  of  rightly  borne 
sorrow  are  gathered  into  a  reservoir  from  which  re- 
freshment, patience,  trust  and  strength  may  be  drawn 
in  later  days. 

But  the  perfect  fulfilment  of  the  promise  lies  beyond 


V.  11]    THE  WRITING  ON  GOD'S  HANDS       9 

this  life.  '  On  the  high  mountains  of  Israel  shall  their 
fold  be,'  and  they  who  have  found  pasture  on  the 
barren  heights  of  earthly  sorrow  shall  '  summer  high 
in  bliss  upon  the  hills  of  God, '  and  shall  at  once  both 
lie  'for  ever  in  a  good  fold, '  and  '  follow  the  Lamb 
whithersoever  He  goefch,'  and  find  fountains  of  living 
water  bursting  forth  for  ever  on  these  fertile  heights. 

THE  WEITING  ON   GOD'S  HANDS 

'Behold!   I  have  graven  thee  upon  the  palms  of  My  hands;  thy  walls 
are  continually  before  Me.' — Isaiah  xlix.  16. 

In  the  preceding  context  we  have  the  infinitely  tender 
and  beautiful  words :  '  Zion  hath  said,  The  Lord  hath 
forsaken  me.  Can  a  woman  forget  her  sucking  child? 
.  .  .  yea,  they  may  forget,  yet  will  I  not  forget  thee. ' 
There  is  more  than  a  mother's  love  in  the  Father's 
heart.  But  wonderful  in  their  revelation  of  God,  and 
mighty  to  strengthen,  calm,  and  comfort,  as  these 
transcendent  words  are,  those  of  my  text,  which  fol- 
low them,  do  not  fall  beneath  their  loftiness.  They 
are  a  singularly  bold  metaphor,  drawn  from  the 
strange  and  half-savage  custom,  which  lingers  still 
among  sailors  and  others,  of  having  beloved  names  or 
other  tokens  of  affection  and  remembrance  indelibly 
inscribed  on  parts  of  the  body.  Sometimes  worshippers 
had  the  marks  of  the  god  thus  set  on  their  flesh ;  here 
God  writes  on  His  hands  the  name  of  the  city  of  His 
worshippers.  And  it  is  not  its  name  only,  but  its  very 
likeness  that  He  stamps  there,  that  He  may  ever  look 
on  it,  as  those  who  love  bear  with  them  a  picture  of 
one  dear  face.  The  prophecy  goes  on :  '  Thy  walls  are 
continually  before  Me,'  but  in  the  prophet's  time  the 
walls  were  in  ruins,  and  yet  they  are  present  to  the 
divine  mind. 


10  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  xlix. 

I.  Now,  the  first  thought  suggested  by  these  great 
words  is  that  here  we  have  set  forth  for  our  strength 
and  peace  a  divine  remembrance,  tender  as — yea,  more 
tender  than — a  mother's. 

When  Israel  came  out  of  Egypt,  the  Passover  was 
instituted  as  '  a  memorial  unto  all  generations, '  or,  as 
the  same  idea  is  otherwise  expressed,  '  it  shall  be  for  a 
sign  unto  thee  upon  thine  hand. '  Here  God  represents 
Himself  as  doing  for  Israel  what  He  had  bid  Israel  do 
for  Him.  They  were,  as  it  were,  to  write  the  supreme 
act  of  deliverance  in  the  Exodus  upon  their  hands, 
that  it  might  never  be  forgotten.  He  writes  Zion  on 
His  hands  for  the  same  purpose. 

Now,  of  course,  the  text  does  not  primarily  refer  to 
individuals,  but  to  the  community,  whether  Zion  is 
understood,  as  the  prophet  understood  the  name,  to 
be  ancient  Israel,  or  as  the  Christian  Church.  But  the 
recognition  of  that  fact  should  not  be  allowed  to  rob 
us  of  the  preciousness  of  this  text  in  its  bearing  on  the 
individual.  For  God  remembers  the  community,  not 
as  an  abstraction  or  a  generalised  expression,  but  as  the 
aggregate  of  all  the  individuals  composing  it.  We  lose 
sight  of  the  particulars  when  we  generalise.  We  cannot 
see  the  trees  for  the  wood.  We  think  of  '  the  Church, ' 
and  do  not  think  of  the  thousands  of  men  and  women 
who  make  it  up.  We  cannot  discern  the  separate  stars 
in  the  galaxy.  But  God's  eye  resolves  what  to  us  is  a 
nebula,  and  to  Him  every  single  glittering  point  of  light 
hangs  rounded  and  separate  in  the  heaven.  Therefore 
this  assurance  of  our  text  is  to  be  taken  by  every  single 
sou]  that  loves  God,  and  trusts  Him  through  Jesus 
Christ,  as  belonging  to  it,  as  though  there  were  not 
another  creature  on  earth  but  itself. 


V.  16]    THE  WRITING  ON  GOD'S  HANDS      11 

'The  sun  whose  beams  most  glorious  are, 
Disdaineth  no  beholder.' 

Its  light  floods  the  world,  yet  seems  to  go  straight 
into  the  eyeball  of  every  man  that  looks  at  it.  And 
such  is  the  divine  love  and  remembrance.  There  is  no 
jostling  nor  confusion  in  the  wide  space  of  the  heart 
of  God.  They  that  go  before  shall  not  hinder  them 
that  come  after.  The  hungry  crowd  sat  down  in  com- 
panies on  the  green  grass,  and  the  first  fifty,  no  doubt, 
were  envied  by  the  last  of  the  hundred  fifties  that 
made  up  the  five  thousand,  and  wondered  whether  the 
five  loaves  and  the  two  small  fishes  could  go  round, 
but  the  last  fed  full  as  did  the  first.  The  great  promise 
of  our  text  belongs  to  me  and  thee,  and  therefore  be- 
longs to  us  all. 

That  remembrance  which  each  man  may  take  for 
himself — and  we  are  poor  Christians  if  we  do  not  live 
in  its  light  —  is  infinitely  tender.  The  echo  of  the 
music  of  the  previous  words  still  haunts  the  verse, 
and  the  remembrance  promised  in  it  is  touched  with 
more  than  a  mother's  love.  '  I  am  poor  and  needy, ' 
says  the  Psalmist,  '  yet  the  Lord  thinketh  upon  me. ' 
He  might  have  said,  '  I  am  poor  and  needy,  therefore 
the  Lord  thinketh  upon  me.'  That  remembrance  is  in 
full  activity  when  things  are  darkest  with  us.  Israel 
said,  '  My  Lord  hath  forgotten  me, '  because  at  the 
point  of  view  taken  in  the  second  half  of  Isaiah,  it 
was  captive  in  a  far-off  land.  You  and  I  sometimes 
are  brought  into  circumstances  in  which  we  are  ready 
to  think  '  God  has,  somehow  or  other,  left  me,  has 
forgotten  me.'  Never!  never!  However  mirk  the 
night,  however  apparently  solitary  the  way,  however 
mysterious  and  insoluble  the  difficulties  of  our  posi- 


12  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  xlix. 

tion,  let  us  fall  back  on  this,  that  the  captive  Israel 
was  remembered  by  God,  and  let  us  be  sure  that  no 
circumstances  of  our  lives  are  so  dark  or  mysterious 
as  to  warrant  the  faintest  shadow  of  suspicion  creep- 
ing over  the  brightness  of  our  confidence  in  this  great 
promise.  His  divine  remembrance  of  each  of  His 
servants  is  certain. 

But  do  not  let  us  forget  that  it  was  a  very  sinful  Zion 
that  God  thus  remembered.  It  was  because  the  nation 
had  transgressed  that  they  were  captives,  but  their 
very  captivity  was  a  proof  that  they  were  not  forgotten. 
The  loving  divine  remembrance  had  to  smite  in  order 
to  prove  that  it  was  active.  Let  us  neither  be  puzzled 
by  our  sorrows  nor  made  less  confident  when  we  think 
of  our  sins.  For  there  is  no  sin  that  is  strong  enough 
to  chill  the  divine  love,  or  to  erase  us  from  the  divine 
remembrance.  '  Captive  Israel!  captive  because  sinful, 
I  have  graven  thee  on  the  palms  of  My  hands. ' 

II.  A  second  thought  here  is  that  the  divine  remem- 
brance guides  the  divine  action. 

The  palm  of  the  hand  is  the  seat  of  strength,  the 
instrument  of  work;  and  so,  if  Zion's  name  is  written 
there,  that  means  not  only  remembrance,  but  remem- 
brance which  is  at  the  helm,  as  it  were,  which  is 
moulding  and  directing  all  the  work  that  is  done  by 
the  hand  that  bears  the  name  inscribed  upon  it.  The 
thought  is  identical  with  the  one  which  is  suggested 
by  part  of  the  High  Priest's  official  dress,  although 
there  the  thought  has  a  different  application.  He 
bore  the  names  of  the  twelve  tribes  graven  upon  his 
shoulder,  the  seat  of  power,  and  upon  his  breastplate 
that  lay  above  the  heart,  the  home  of  love.  God 
holds  out  the  mighty  Hand  which  works  all  things, 


V.  16]   THE  WRITING  ON  GOD'S  HANDS       13 

and  says  to  His  children :  '  Look,  you  are  graven  there  ' 
— at  the  very  fountain-head,  as  it  were,  of  the  divine 
activity.  Which,  being  turned  into  plain  English,  is 
just  this,  that  for  His  Church  as  a  whole.  He  does  move 
amidst  the  affairs  of  nations.  You  remember  the  grand 
words  of  one  of  the  Psalms, — '  He  reproved  kings  for 
their  sakes,  saying.  Touch  not  Mine  anointed,  and  do 
My  prophets  no  harm.'  It  is  no  fanatical  reading  of 
the  history  of  earthly  politics  and  kingdoms,  if  we 
recognise  that  one  of  the  most  prominent  reasons  for 
the  divine  activities  in  moulding  the  kingdoms,  set- 
ting up  and  casting  down,  is  the  advancement  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  and  the  building  of  the  City  of 
God.  '  I  have  graven  thee  on  the  palms  of  My  hands  ' 
— and  when  the  hands  go  to  work,  it  is  for  the  Zion 
whose  likeness  they  bear. 

But  the  same  truth  applies  to  us  individually.  *A11 
things  work  together ' ;  they  would  not  do  so,  unless 
there  was  one  dominant  Will  which  turned  the  chaos 
into  a  cosmos.  'All  things  work,'  that  is  very  plain. 
The  tremendous  activities  round  us  both  in  Nature  and 
in  history  are  clear  to  us  all.  But  if  all  things  and 
events  are  co-operant,  working  into  each  other,  and 
for  one  end,  like  the  wheels  of  a  well-constructed 
engine,  then  there  must  be  an  Engineer,  and  they 
work  together  because  He  is  directing  them.  Thus, 
because  my  name  is  graven  on  the  palms  of  the  mighty 
Hand  that  doeth  all  things,  therefore  '  all  things  work 
together  for  my  good.'  If  we  could  but  carry  that 
quiet  conviction  into  all  the  mysteries,  as  they  some- 
times seem  to  be,  of  our  daily  lives,  and  interpret 
everything  in  the  light  of  that  great  thought,  how 
different  all  our  days  would  be!     How  far  above  the 


14  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  xlix. 

petty  anxieties  and  cares  and  troubles  that  gnaw  away 
so  much  of  our  strength  and  joy;  how  serene,  peace- 
ful, lofty,  submissive,  would  be  our  lives,  and  how  in  the 
darkest  darkness  there  would  be  a  great  light,  not  only 
of  hope  for  a  distant  future,  but  of  confident  assurance 
for  the  present.  '  I  have  graven  thee  on  the  palms  of 
My  hands  ' — do  Thou,  then,  as  Thou  wilt  with  me. 

III.  A  last  thought  here  is  that  the  divine  remem- 
brance works  all  things,  to  realise  a  great  ideal  end, 
as  yet  unreached. 

'Thy  walls  are  continually  before  Me.'  When  this 
prophecj''  was  uttered  the  Israelites  were  in  captivity, 
and  the  city  was  a  wilderness,  '  the  holy  and  beautiful 
House ' — as  this  very  book  says — '  where  the  fathers 
praised  Thee  was  burned  with  fire,'  the  walls  were 
broken  down,  rubbish  and  solitude  were  there.  Yet 
on  the  palms  of  God's  hands  were  inscribed  the  walls 
which  were  nowhere  else!  They  were  'before  Him,' 
though  Jerusalem  was  a  ruin.  What  does  that  mean  ? 
It  means  that  that  divine  remembrance  sees  '  things 
that  are  not,  as  though  they  were.'  In  the  midst  of 
the  imperfect  reality  of  the  present  condition  of  the 
Church  as  a  whole,  and  of  us,  its  actual  components,  it 
sees  the  ideal,  the  perfect  vision  of  the  perfect  future, 
and  '  all  the  wonder  that  shall  be. '  Zion  may  be 
desolate,  but  '  before  Him'  stands  what  will  one  day 
stand  on  the  earth  before  all  men,  '  the  new  Jerusalem, 
coming  down  from  heaven,'  having  walls  great  and 
high,  and  its  foundations  garnished  with  all  manner  of 
precious  stones.  '  Thy  walls  are  before  Me, '  though 
the  ruins  are  there  before  men. 

So,  brethren,  the  most  radiant  optimism  is  the  only 
fitting  attitude  for  Christian  people  in  looking  into  the 


V.  16]         WORDS  TO  THE  WEARY  15 

future,  either  of  the  Church  as  a  whole,  or  of  them- 
selves as  individual  members  of  it.  God's  hand  is  work- 
ing for  Zion  and  for  me.  It  is  guided  by  love  that  does 
not  lose  the  individual  in  the  mass,  nor  ever  forgets 
any  of  its  children,  and  it  works  towards  the  attain- 
ment of  unattained  perfection.  '  This  Man '  does  not 
*  begin  to  build  and  '  prove  '  not  able  to  finish. ' 

So  let  us  be  sure  that,  if  only  we  keep  ourselves  in 
the  love,  and  continue  in  the  grace  of  God,  He  will  not 
slack  nor  stay  His  hand  on  which  Zion  is  graven,  until 
it  has  '  perfected  that  which  concerneth  us, '  and  ful- 
filled to  each  of  us  that  '  which  He  has  spoken  to  us  of. ' 

I  said  at  the  beginning  of  these  remarks  that  God 
did  what  He  bids  us  do.  God  bids  us  do  what  He  does. 
His  name  should  be  on  our  hands;  that  is  to  say, 
memory  of  Him,  love  of  Him,  regard  to  Him,  confi- 
dence in  Him  should  mould  and  guide  all  our  activity, 
and  the  aim  that  we  shall  be  builded  up  for  a  habita- 
tion of  God  through  the  Spirit  should  be  the  conscious 
aim  of  our  lives,  as  it  is  the  aim  which  He  has  in  view 
in  all  His  dealings  with  us.  Our  names  on  His  hand ; 
His  name  on  our  hands;  so  shall  we  be  blessed. 

THE  SERVANT'S   WORDS  TO   THE    WEARY 

'  The  Lord  God  hath  given  me  the  tongue  of  them  that  are  taught,  that 
I  should  know  how  to  sustain  with  words  him  that  is  weary ;  he  wakeneth 
morning  by  morning,  he  wakeneth  mine  ear  to  hear  as  they  that  are 
taught.' — Isaiah  1.  4. 

In  chapter  xlix.  1-6,  the  beginning  of  the  continuous 
section  of  which  these  verses  are  part,  a  transition  is 
made  from  Israel  as  collectively  the  ideal  servant  of 
the  Lord,  to  a  personal  Servant,  whose  office  it  is  '  to 
bring  Jacob  again  to  Him. '  We  see  the  ideal  in  the 
very  act  of  passing  to  its  highest  form,  and  that  in 


16  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

which  it  is  finally  fulfilled  in  history,  namely,  by  the 
person  Jesus.  That  Jesus  was  '  Thy  Holy  Servant'  was 
the  earliest  gospel  preached  by  Peter  and  John  before 
people  and  rulers.  It  is  not  the  most  vital  conception 
of  our  Lord's  nature  and  work.  The  prophet  does  not 
here  pierce  to  the  core,  as  in  his  fifty-third  chapter 
with  its  vision  of  the  Suffering  Servant,  but  this  is 
prelude  to  that,  and  the  office  assigned  here  to  the  Ser- 
vant cannot  be  fully  discharged  without  that  ascribed 
to  Him  there,  as  the  prophet  begins  to  discern  almost 
immediately.  The  text  gives  us  a  striking  view  of  the 
purpose  of  Messiah's  mission  and  of  His  training  and 
preparation  for  it. 

I.  The  purpose  of  Christ's  mission. 

There  is  a  remarkable  contrast  between  the  stately 
prelude  to  the  section  of  the  prophecy  in  chapter  xlix., 
and  the  ideal  in  this  text.  There  the  Servant  calls  the 
isles  and  the  distant  peoples  to  listen,  and  declares  that 
His  mouth  is  '  like  a  sharp  sword ' ;  here  all  that  is 
keen  and  smiting  in  His  word  has  softened  into  gentle 
whispers  of  comfort  to  sustain  the  weary. 

A  mission  addressed  to  '  the  weary  '  is  addressed  to 
every  man,  for  who  is  not  '  weighed  upon  with  sore 
distress,'  or  loaded  with  the  burden  and  the  weight 
of  tasks  beyond  his  power  or  distasteful  to  his  inclina- 
tions, or  monotonous  to  nausea,  or  prolonged  to  ex- 
haustion, or  toiled  at  with  little  hope  and  less  interest? 
Who  is  not  weary  of  himself  and  of  his  load?  What 
but  universal  weariness  does  the  universal  secret  de- 
sire for  rest  betray?  We  are  all  '  pilgrims  weary  of 
time,'  and  some  of  us  are  weary  of  even  prosperity, 
and  some  of  us  are  worn  out  with  work,  and  some  of 
us  buffeted  to  all  but  exhaustion  by  sorrow,  and  all  of 


V.4]  WORDS  TO  THE  WEARY  17 

us  long  for  rest,  though  many  of  us  do  not  know  where 
to  look  for  it. 

Jesus  may  have  had  this  word  in  mind,  when  He 
called  to  Him  all  them  '  that  labour  and  are  heavy 
laden.'  At  all  events,  the  prophet's  ideal  and  the 
evangelists'  story  accurately  correspond.  Christ's  words 
have  other  characteristics,  but  are  eminently  words 
that  sustain  the  weary  and  comfort  the  down-hearted. 
Who  can  ever  calculate  the  new  strength  poured  by 
them  into  fainting  hearts  and  languid  hands,  the  all 
but  dead  hopes  that  they  have  reanimated,  the  sorrows 
they  have  comforted,  the  wounds  they  have  stanched? 

What  a  lesson  here  as  to  the  noblest  use  of  high 
endowments!  What  a  contrast  to  the  use  that  so 
many  of  those  to  whom  God  has  given  '  the  tongue  of 
them  that  are  taught '  make  of  their  great  gifts! 
Literature  yields  but  few  examples  of  great  writers 
who  have  faithfully  employed  their  powers  for  that 
purpose,  which  seems  so  humble  and  is  so  lofty,  the 
help  of  the  weary,  the  comfort  of  the  sad.  Many  pages 
in  famous  books  would  be  cancelled  if  all  that  had 
been  written  without  consideration  for  these  classes 
were  obliterated,  as  it  will  be  one  day. 

But  Christ  not  only  speaks  by  outward  words,  but 
has  other  ways  of  lodging  sustenance  and  comfort  in 
souls  than  by  vocables  audible  to  the  ear  or  visible  to 
the  eye  on  the  page.  '  The  words  that  I  speak  unto 
you,  they  are  spirit  and  they  are  life.'  He  spoke  by 
His  deeds  on  earth,  and  in  one  and  the  same  set  of 
facts.  He  '  began  to  do  and  to  teach, '  the  doing  being 
named  first.  He  '  now  speaketh  from  Heaven  '  by  many 
an  inward  whisper,  by  the  communication  of  His  own 
Spirit,   on  Whom  this  very  office  of  ministering  sus- 

VOL.  11.  B 


18  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

tenance  and  comfort  is  laid,  and  whose  very  name  of 
the  Comforter  means  One  who  by  his  being  with  a 
man  strengthens  him. 

II.  The  training  and  preparation  of  the  Messiah  for 
His  mission. 

The  Messiah  is  here  represented  as  having  the  tongue 
of  '  them  that  are  taught, '  and  as  having  it,  because 
morning  by  morning  He  has  been  wakened  to  hear 
God's  lessons.  He  is  thus  God's  scholar — a  thought 
of  which  an  unreflecting  orthodoxy  has  been  shy,  but 
which  it  is  necessary  to  admit  unhesitatingly  and  un- 
grudgingly, if  we  would  not  reduce  the  manhood  of 
Jesus  to  a  mere  phantasm.  He  Himself  has  said,  'As 
the  Father  taught  Me,  I  speak  these  things.'  With 
emphatic  repetition,  He  was  continually  making  that 
assertion,  as,  for  instance, '  I  have  not  spoken  of  Myself, 
but  the  Father  which  sent  Me,  He  gave  Me  a  com- 
mandment what  I  should  say,  and  what  I  should  speak 
.  .  .  the  things  therefore  which  I  speak,  even  as  the 
Father  hath  said  unto  Me,  so  I  speak. ' 

The  Gospels  tell  us  of  the  prayers  of  Jesus,"  and  of 
rare  occasions  in  which  a  voice  from  heaven  spoke  to 
Him.  But  while  these  are  palpable  instances  of  His 
communion  with  God,  and  precious  tokens  of  His  true 
brotherhood  with  us  in  the  indispensable  characteristics 
of  the  life  of  faith,  they  are  but  the  salient  points  on 
which  the  light  falls,  and  behind  them,  all  unknown  by 
us,  stretches  an  unbroken  chain  of  like  acts  of  fellow- 
ship. In  that  subordination  as  of  a  scholar  to  teacher, 
both  His  divine  and  His  human  nature  concurred,  the 
former  in  filial  submission,  the  latter  in  continual,  truly 
human  derivation  and  reception.  The  man  Jesus  was 
taught  and,  like  the  boy  Jesus,  '  increased  in  wisdom. ' 


V.4]  WORDS  TO  THE  WEARY  19 

But  while  He  learned  as  truly  as  we  learn  from  God, 
and  exercised  the  same  communion  with  the  Father, 
the  same  submission  to  Him,  which  other  men  have 
to  exercise,  and  called  '  us  brethren,  saying,  I  will  put 
my  trust  in  Him,'  the  difference  in  degree  between 
His  close  fellowship  with  God  the  Father,  and  our 
broken  and  always  partial  fellowship,  between  His 
completeness  of  reception  of  God's  words  and  our  im- 
perfect comprehension,  between  His  perfect  reproduc- 
tion of  the  words  He  had  heard  and  our  faint  and  often 
mistaken  echo  of  them,  is  so  immense  as  to  amount  to 
a  difference  in  kind.  His  unity  of  will  and  being  with 
the  Father  ensured  that  all  His  words  were  God's. 
'  Never  man  spake  like  this  man. '  The  man  who  speaks 
to  us  once  for  all  God's  words  must  be  more  than  man. 
Other  men,  the  highest,  give  us  fragments  of  that 
mighty  voice;  Jesus  speaks  its  whole  message,  and 
nothing  but  its  message.  Of  that  perfect  reproduc- 
tion He  is  calmly  conscious,  and  claims  to  give  it,  in 
words  which  are  at  once  lowly  and  instinct  with  more 
than  human  authority:  'All  things  that  I  have  heard 
of  My  Father  I  have  made  known  unto  you. '  Who  be- 
sides Him  dare  make  such  a  claim?  Who  besides  Him 
could  make  it  without  being  met  by  incredulous  scorn? 
His  utterance  of  the  Father's  words  was  unmarred  by 
defect  on  the  one  hand,  and  by  additions  on  the  other. 
It  was  like  pure  water  which  tastes  of  no  soil.  His 
soul  was  like  an  open  vessel  plunged  in  a  stream,  filled 
by  the  flow  and  giving  forth  again  its  whole  contents. 

That  divine  communication  to  Jesus  was  no  mere  im- 
partation  of  abstractions  or  'truths,'  still  less  of  the  poor 
words  of  man's  speech,  but  was  the  flowing  into  His 
spirit  of  the  living  Father  by  whom  He  lived.     And  it 


20  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

was  unbroken.  '  Morning  by  morning '  it  was  going 
on.  The  line  was  continuous,  whereas  for  the  rest  of 
us,  at  the  best,  it  is  a  series  of  points  more  or  less  con- 
tiguous, but  with  dark  spaces  between.  '  God  giveth 
not  the  Spirit  by  measure  unto  Him. ' 

So,  then,  let  us  hold  fast  by  Him,  the  Son  in  whom 
God  has  spoken  to  us,  and  to  all  voices  without  and 
within  that  would  woo  us  to  listen,  let  us  answer  with 
the  only  wise  answer:  '  To  whom  shall  we  go?  Thou 
hast  the  words  of  eternal  life. ' 

THE   SERVANT'S   OBEDIENCE 

'I  was  not  rebellious,  neither  turned  away  back.' — Isaiah  I.  5. 

I.  The  secret  of  Christ's  life,  filial  obedience. 

The  fact  is  attested  by  Scripture.  By  His  own  words : 
*  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  My  Father  ' ;  '  For  thus 
it  becometh  us  to  fulfil  all  righteousness ' ;  'I  came 
down  from  heaven  not  to  do  My  own  will.'  By  His 
servant's  words :  '  Obedient  unto  death  ' ;  '  Made  under 
the  law ' ;  '  He  learned  obedience  by  the  things  which 
He  suffered.'  It  is  involved  in  the  belief  of  His  right- 
eous manhood.  It  is  essential  to  true  manhood.  The 
highest  ideal  for  humanity  is  conscious  dependence  on 
God,  and  the  very  definition  of  righteousness  is  con- 
scious conformity  to  the  Will  of  God.  If  Christ  had 
done  the  noblest  acts  and  yet  had  not  always  had  this 
sense  of  being  a  servant,  He  would  not  have  been 
pure  and  holy. 

It  is  not  inconsistent  with  His  true  Divinity.  We 
stand  afar  off,  but  we  can  see  this  much. 

The  completeness  of  that  obedience.  It  was  con- 
tinuous and  it  was  entire. 


V.5]       THE  SERVANT'S  OBEDIENCE  21 

The  living  heart  of  it:  'I  delight  to  do  Thy  Will.' 
The  Father's  Will  was  not  a  force  without,  but  Christ's 
whole  being  was  conformed  to  it,  and  it  was  shrined 
within  His  heart  and  had  become  His  choice  and 
delight. 

The  expressions  of  tlis  obedience  were  His  perfect  ful- 
filment of  the  divine  commands,  and  His  perfect  endur- 
ance of  the  divine  appointments. 

Thus  God's  Will  was  the  keynote,  to  which  Christ's 
will  struck  the  full  chord. 

n.  The  yet  deeper  mysteries  which  that  perfect  obe- 
dience discloses. 

1.  A  sinless  human  life  must  be  more  than  human. 
The  contrast  with  all  which  we  have  known  —  the 
impossibility  of  retaining  belief  in  the  perfect  obe- 
dience of  Jesus  unless  we  have  underlying  it  the  belief 
in  His  divinity.  '  There  is  none  good  but  one,  that  is 
God.' 

2.  The  sinless  human  life  suffers  not  for  itself  but 
for  us.  The  combination  of  holiness  and  sorrow  leads 
on  to  the  mystery  of  atonement.  The  sinlessness  is  in- 
dispensable to  the  doctrine  of  His  sacrificial  death. 

III.  The  glorious  gifts  which  flow  from  that  perfect 
obedience. 

1.  It  gives  us  a  living  law  to  obey. 

2.  It  gives  us  a  transforming  power  to  receive. 

3.  It  gives  us  a  perfect  righteousness  to  trust  to 
This  perfect  obedience  may  be  ours.     Being  ours,  our 

lives  will  be  strong,  free,  peaceful. 

That  obedience  becomes  ours  by  faith,  which  leads 
to  love,  and  love  to  the  glad  obedience  of  sons. 


THE  SERVANT'S  VOLUNTARY  SUFFERINGS 

*  I  gave  My  back  to  the  smiters,  and  My  cheeks  to  them  that  plucked  off 
the  hair:  I  hid  not  My  face  from  shame  and  spitting.' — Isaiah  1.  6. 

Such  words  are  not  to  be  dealt  with  coldly.  Unless 
they  be  grasped  by  the  heart  they  are  not  grasped  at 
all.  We  do  not  think  of  analysing  in  the  presence  of 
a  great  sorrow.  There  can  be  no  greater  dishonour  to 
the  name  of  Christ  than  an  unemotional  consideration 
of  His  sufferings  for  us.  The  hindrances  to  a  due  con- 
sideration of  these  are  manifold;  some  arising  from 
intellectual,  and  some  from  moral,  causes.  Most  men 
have  difficulty  in  vivifying  any  historical  event  so  as 
to  feel  its  reality.  There  is  no  nobler  use  of  the 
historical  imagination  than  to  direct  it  to  that  great 
life  and  death  on  which  the  salvation  of  the  world 
depends. 

The  prophet  here  has  advanced  from  the  first  general 
conception  of  the  Servant  of  the  Lord  as  recipient  of 
divine  commission,  and  submissive  to  the  divine  voice, 
to  thoughts  of  the  sufferings  which  He  would  meet 
with  on  His  path,  and  of  how  He  bore  them. 

I.  The  sufferings  of  the  Servant. 

The  minute  particularity  is  very  noteworthy,  scourg- 
ing, plucking  the  beard,  shame,  all  sorts  of  taunts  and 
buffets  on  the  face,  and  the  last  indignity  of  spitting. 
Clearly,  then.  He  is  not  only  to  suffer  persecution, 
but  is  to  be  treated  with  insult  and  to  endure  that 
strange  blending,  so  often  seen,  of  grim  infernal 
laughter  with  grim  infernal  fury,  the  hyena's  laugh 
and  its  ferocity.  Wherever  it  occurs,  it  implies  not 
only  fell  hate  and  cruelty,  but  also  contempt  and 
a  horrible  delight  in  triumphing  over  an  enemy.  It  is 
found  in  all  corrupt  periods,  and  especially  in  religious 

22 


V.6]       THE  SERVANT'S  SUFFERINGS         23 

persecutions.  Here  it  implies  the  rejection  of  the 
Servant. 

The  prophecy  was  literally  fulfilled,  but  not  in  all  its 
traits.  This  may  give  a  hint  as  to  the  general  inter- 
pretation of  prophecy  and  may  teach  that  external  ful- 
filment only  points  to  a  deeper  correspondence.  The 
most  salient  instance  is  in  Jesus'  entrance  into  Jerusa- 
lem riding  on  an  ass,  which  was  but  a  finger-post  to 
guide  men's  thoughts  to  His  fulfilling  the  ideal  of  the 
Messianic  King.  And  yet,  the  minute  correspondences 
are  worth  noticing.  What  a  strange,  solemn  glimpse 
they  give  into  that  awful  divine  omniscience,  and  into 
the  mystery  of  the  play  of  the  vilest  passions  as  being 
yet  under  control  in  their  extremest  rage! 

We  must  note  the  remarkable  prominence  in  the 
narratives  of  the  Passion,  of  signs  of  contempt  and 
mockery;  Judas'  kiss,  the  purple  robe,  the  crown  of 
thorns,  '  wagging  their  heads, '  '  let  be,  let  Elias  come, ' 
etc. 

Think  of  the  exquisite  pain  of  this  to  Christ.  That 
He  was  sinless  and  full  of  love  made  it  all  the  worse 
to  bear.  Not  the  physical  pain,  but  the  consciousness 
that  He  was  encompassed  by  such  an  atmosphere  of 
evil,  was  the  sharpest  pang.  We  should  think  with 
reverent  sympathy  of  His  perfect  discernment  of  the 
sinful  malignant  hearts  from  which  the  sufferings 
came,  of  His  pained  and  rejected  love  thrown  back  on 
itself,  of  His  clear  sight  of  what  their  heartless  infiic- 
tion  of  tortures  would  end  in  for  the  infiicters,  of  His 
true  human  feeling  which  shrank  from  being  the  object 
of  contempt  and  execration. 

II.  His  patient  submission. 

'  I  gave, ' — purely  voluntary.     That  word  originally 


24  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

expressed  the  patient  submission  with  which  He  en- 
dured at  the  moment,  when  the  lash  scored  His  back, 
but  it  may  be  widened  out  to  express  Christ's  perfect 
voluntariness  in  all  His  passion.  At  any  moment  He 
could  have  abandoned  His  work  if  His  filial  obedience 
and  His  love  to  men  had  let  Him  do  so.  His  would- 
be  captors  fell  to  the  ground  before  one  momentary  flash 
of  His  majesty,  and  they  could  have  laid  no  hand  on 
Him,  if  His  will  had  not  consented  to  His  capture.  Fra 
Angelico  has  grasped  the  thought  which  the  prophet 
here  uttered,  and  which  the  evangelists  emphasise, 
that  all  His  suffering  was  voluntary,  and  that  His 
love  to  us  restrained  His  power,  and  led  Him  to  the 
slaughter,  silent  as  a  sheep  before  her  shearers.  For 
he  has  pourtrayed  the  majestic  figure  seated  in  passive 
endurance,  with  eyes  blindfolded  but  yet  wide  open 
behind  the  bandage,  all-seeing,  wistful,  sad,  and 
patient,  while  around  are  fragments  of  rods,  and  smit- 
ing hands,  and  a  cruel  face  blowing  spittle  on  the 
unshrinking  cheeks.  He  seems  to  be  saying :  '  These 
things  hast  thou  done,  and  I  kept  silence. '  '  Thou 
couldest  have  no  power  at  all  against  Me  unless  it 
were  given  thee. ' 

III.  His  submission  to  suffering  in  obedience  to  the 
Father's  Will. 

The  context  connects  His  opened  ear  and  His  not 
being  rebellious  with  His  giving  His  back  to  the 
smiters.  That  involves  the  idea  that  these  indignities 
and  insults  were  part  of  the  divine  counsel  in  refer- 
ence to  Him.  That  same  combination  of  ideas  is 
strongly  presented  in  the  early  addresses  of  Peter, 
recorded  in  the  first  chapters  of  Acts,  of  which  this  is 
a  specimen :  '  Him,  being  delivered  by  the  determinate 


V.7]       THE  SERVANT'S  SUFFERINGS         25 

counsel  and  foreknowledge  of  God,  ye  with  wicked 
hands  have  crucified  and  slain.'  The  full  significance 
of  Christ's  passion  as  that  of  the  atoning  sacrifice  was 
not  yet  clear  to  the  apostle,  any  more  than  the  Ser- 
vant's sufferings  were  to  the  prophet,  but  both  prophet 
and  apostle  were  carried  on  by  fuller  experience  and 
reflection  on  what  they  already  saw  clearly,  to  discern 
the  inwardness  and  depth  of  these.  The  one  soon 
came  to  see  that  '  by  His  stripes  we  are  healed, '  and  the 
other  finally  wrote :  '  Who  His  own  self  bare  our  sins 
in  His  own  body  on  the  tree.'  And  whoever  deeply 
ponders  the  startling  fact  that  '  it  pleased  the  Lord  to 
bruise  Him, '  sinless  and  ever  obedient  as  He  was,  will 
be  borne,  sooner  or  later,  into  the  full  sunlight  of  the 
blessed  belief  that  when  Jesus  suffered  and  died,  '  He 
died  for  all. '  His  sufferings  were  those  of  a  martyr 
for  truth,  who  is  willing  to  die  rather  than  cease  to 
witness  for  it;  but  they  were  more.  They  were  the 
sufferings  of  a  lover  of  mankind  who  will  face  the 
extremest  wrong  that  can  be  inflicted,  rather  than 
abandon  His  mission ;  but  they  were  more.  They  were 
not  merely  the  penalty  which  He  had  to  pay  for  faith- 
fulness to  His  work;  they  were  themselves  the  crown 
and  climax  of  His  work.  The  Son  of  Man  came, 
indeed,  '  not  to  be  ministered  to  but  to  minister, '  but 
that,  taken  alone,  is  but  a  maimed  view  of  what  He 
came  for,  and  we  must  whole-heartedly  go  on  to  say  as  He 
said,  '  and  to  give  His  life  a  ransom  for  many, '  if  we 
would  know  the  whole  truth  as  to  the  sufferings  of  Jesus. 
Again,  since  Christ  suffers  according  to  the  will  of 
God,  it  is  clear  that  all  representations  of  the  scope  of 
His  atoning  death,  which  represent  it  as  moving  the 
will  of  the  Father  to  love  and  pardon,  are  travesties 


26  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

of  the  truth  and  turn  cause  into  effect.  God  does  not  love, 
because  Jesus  died,  but  Jesus  died  because  God  loved. 

Further,  it  is  to  be  noted  that  His  sufferings  are  the 
great  means  by  which  He  sustains  the  weary.  The 
word  to  which  His  ears  were  opened,  morning  by 
morning,  was  the  word  to  which  He  was  docile  when 
He  gave  His  back  to  the  smiters.  It  is  His  passion, 
regarded  as  the  sacrifice  for  a  world's  sin,  from  which 
flow  the  most  powerful  stimulants  to  service  and  tonics 
for  weary  souls,  the  tenderest  comfortings  for  sorrow. 
He  sustains  and  comforts  by  the  example  of  His  life, 
but  far  more,  and  more  sweetly,  more  mightily,  by  that 
which  flows  to  us  through  His  death.  His  sufferings 
are  powerful  to  sustain,  when  thought  of  as  our  ex- 
ample, but  they  are  a  tenfold  stronger  source  of  patience 
and  strength,  when  laid  on  our  hearts  as  the  price  of 
our  redemption.  The  Cross  is,  in  all  senses  of  the  ex- 
pression, the  tree  of  life. 

Wonder,  reverence,  love,  gratitude,  should  well  forth 
from  our  hearts,  when  we  think  of  these  cruel  sufferings, 
but  the  deepest  fountains  in  them  will  not  be  unsealed, 
unless  we  see  in  the  suffering  Servant  the  atoning  Son. 

THE   SERVANT'S  INFLEXIBLE   RESOLVE 

'For  the  Lord  God  will  help  Me;   therefore  shall  I  not  be  confounded: 
therefore  have  I  set  My  face  like  a  flint.'  — Isaiah  I.  7. 

What  a  striking  contrast  between  the  tone  of  these 
words  and  of  the  preceding!  There  all  is  gentleness, 
docility,  still  communion,  submission,  patient  endur- 
ance. Here  all  is  energy  and  determination,  resistance 
and  martial  vigour.  It  is  like  the  contrast  between 
a  priest  and  a  warrior.  And  that  gentleness  is  the 
parent  of  this  boldness.     The  same  Will  which  is  all 


V.7]  THE  SERVANT'S  RESOLVE  27 

submission  to  God  is  all  resistance  in  the  face  of  hostile 
men.  The  utmost  lowliness  and  the  most  resolved 
resistance  to  opposing  forces  are  found  in  that  pro- 
phetic image  of  the  Servant  of  the  Lord — even  as  they 
are  found  in  the  highest  degree  and  most  perfectly 
in  Jesus  Christ. 

The  sequence  in  this  context  is  worth  noting.  We 
had  first  Christ's  communion  with  God  and  com- 
munications from  the  Father;  then  the  perfect  sub- 
mission of  His  Will;  then  that  submission  expressed 
in  His  voluntary  sufferings;  and  now  we  have  His 
immovable  steadfastness  of  resistance  to  the  tempta- 
tion, which  lay  in  these  sufferings,  to  depart  from  His 
attitude  of  submission,  and  to  abandon  His  work. 

The  former  verse  led  us  up  to  the  verge  of  the  great 
mystery  of  His  sacrificial  death.  This  gives  us  a 
glimjjse  into  the  depths  of  His  human  life,  and  shows 
Him  to  us  as  our  example  in  all  holy  heroism. 

I.  The  need  which  Christ  felt  to  exercise  firm 
resistance. 

The  words  of  the  text  are  found  almost  reproduced  in 
Jeremiah  i.  and  Ezekiel  iii.  All  prophets  and  servants 
of  God  have  had  thus  to  resist,  and  it  would  be  super- 
fluous to  show  how  resistance  to  opposing  influences  is 
the  condition  of  all  noble  life  and  of  all  true  service. 

But  was  it  so  with  Him?  The  more  accurate  transla- 
tion of  the  second  clause  of  our  text  is  to  be  noticed : 
'  Therefore  I  will  not  suffer  Myself  to  be  overcome  by 
the  shame. ' 

Then  the  shame  had  in  it  some  tendency  to  divert 
Him  from  His  course.  Christ's  humanity  felt  natural 
human  shrinking  from  pain  and  suffering.  It  shrank 
from  the  contempt  and  mockery  of  those  around  Him, 


28  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

and  did  so  with  esjDecial  sensitiveness  because  of  His 
pure  and  sinless  nature,  His  yearning  sympathy,  the 
atmosphere  of  love  in  which  He  dwelt,  His  clear  sight 
of  the  sin,  and  His  prevision  of  the  consequent  sorrow. 
If  so.  His  sufferings  did  appeal  to  His  human  nature 
and  constituted  a  temptation. 

At  the  beginning  the  Tempter  addressed  himself 
to  natural  desires  to  procure  physical  gratification 
(bread),  and  to  the  equally  natural  desire  to  avoid 
suffering  and  pain,  and  to  secure  His  kingdom  by  an 
easier  method  ('All  these  will  I  give  Thee,  if '). 

And  the  latter  temptation  attended  Him  all  through 
His  life,  and  was  most  insistent  at  its  close.  The 
shadow  of  the  cross  stretched  along  His  path  from  its 
beginning.  But  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  he  had 
not  the  same  need  of  seZ/-control  which  we  have,  in 
that  His  Will  was  not  reluctant,  and  that  no  rebellious 
desires  had  escaped  from  its  control  and  needed  to  be 
reduced  to  submission.  '  I  was  not  rebellious. '  '  The 
spirit  is  willing  but  the  flesh  is  weak  '  was  true  in  the 
fullest  extent  only  of  Him.  So  the  context  gives  us 
His  perfect  submission  of  will,  and  yet  the  need  to 
harden  His  face  toward  externals  from  which,  instinct- 
ively and  without  breach  of  filial  obedience,  His  sensitive 
nature  recoiled.  The  reality  of  the  temptation,  the 
limits  of  its  reach,  His  consciousness  of  it,  and  His  im- 
movable obedience  and  resistance,  are  all  expressed  in  the 
deep  and  wonderful  words,  '  If  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup 
pass  from  Me,  nevertheless  not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou  wilt. ' 

II.  The  perfect  inflexible  resolve. 

'  Face  like  a  flint '  seems  to  be  quoted  in  Luke  ix.  51 ; 
'  Steadily  set  His  face. '  The  whole  story  of  the  Gospels 
gives  the  one  impression  of  a  life  steadfast  in  its  great 


V.7]  THE  SERVANT'S  RESOLVE  29 

resolve.  There  are  no  traces  of  His  ever  faltering  in 
His  purpose,  none  of  His  ever  suffering  Himself  to  be 
diverted  from  it,  no  parentheses  and  no  digressions. 
There  are  no  blunders  either.  But  what  a  contrast  in 
this  respect  to  all  other  lives!  Mark's  Gospel,  v^hich 
is  eminently  the  gospel  of  the  Servant,  is  full  of  energy 
and  of  this  inflexible  resolve,  which  speak  in  such  sayings 
as  '  I  must  be  about  My  Father's  business ' ;  '  I  must 
work  the  works  of  My  Father  while  it  is  day. '  That  last 
journey,  during  which  He  '  steadfastly  set  His  face  to  go 
to  Jerusalem, '  is  but  a  type  of  the  whole.  Christ's  life 
was  a  continuous  or  rather  a  continually  repeated  effort. 
This  inflexible  resolve  is  associated  in  Him  with 
characteristics  not  usually  allied  with  it.  The  gentle- 
ness of  Christ  is  so  obvious  in  His  character  that  little 
needs  to  be  said  to  point  it  out.  To  the  influence  of 
His  character  more  than  to  any  other  cause  may  be 
traced  the  change  in  the  perspective,  so  to  speak,  of 
Virtue,  which  characterises  modern  notions  of  perfec- 
tion as  contrasted  with  antique  ones.  Contrast  the 
Greek  and  Roman  type  with  the  mediaeval  ascetic,  or 
with  the  philanthropic  type  of  modern  times.  Carlyle's 
ideal  is  retrograde  and  an  anachronism.  Women  and 
patient  sufferers  find  example  in  Him.  But  we  have 
in  Jesus  Christ,  too,  the  highest  example  of  all  the 
stronger  and  robuster  virtues,  the  more  distinctly  heroic, 
masculine;  and  that  not  merely  passive  firmness  of 
endurance  such  as  an  American  Indian  will  show  in 
torments,  but  active  firmness  which  presses  on  to 
its  goal,  and,  immovably  resolute,  will  not  be  diverted 
by  anything.  In  Him  we  see  a  resolved  Will  and 
a  gentle  loving  Heart  in  perfect  accord.  That  is  a 
wonderful    combination.      We    often    find    that    such 


30  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

firmness  is  developed  at  the  expense  of  indifference  to 
other  people.  It  is  like  a  war  chariot,  or  artillery 
train,  that  goes  crashing  across  the  field,  though  it  be 
over  shrieking  men  and  broken  bones,  and  the  wheels 
splash  in  blood.  Eesolved  firmness  is  often  accompa- 
nied with  self-absorption  which  makes  it  gloomy,  and 
with  narrow  limitations.  Such  men  gather  all  their 
powers  together  to  secure  a  certain  end,  and  do  it  by 
shutting  the  eyes  of  their  mind  to  everything  but  the 
one  object,  like  the  painter,  who  blocks  up  his  studio 
window  to  get  a  top  light,  or  as  a  mad  bull  lowers  his 
head  and  blindly  rushes  on. 

There  is  none  of  all  this  in  Christ's  firmness.  He  was 
able  at  every  moment  to  give  His  whole  sympathy 
to  all  who  needed  it,  to  take  in  all  that  lay  around 
Him,  and  His  resolute  concentration  of  Himself  on  His 
work  made  Him  none  the  less  perfect  in  all  which  goes 
to  make  up  complete  manhood.  Not  only  was  Christ's 
firmness  that  of  a  fixed  Will  and  a  most  loving  Heart, 
like  one  of  these  '  rocking  stones, '  whose  solid  mass  can 
be  set  vibrating  by  a  poising  bird,  but  the  fixed  Will 
came  from  the  loving  Heart.  The  very  compassion 
and  pity  of  His  nature  led  to  that  resolved  continuance 
in  His  path  of  redeeming  love,  though  suffering  and 
mockery  waited  for  Him  at  each  turn. 

And  so  He  is  the  Joshua,  the  Warrior-King,  as  well 
as  the  Priest.  That  Face,  ever  ready  to  kindle  into  pity, 
to  melt  into  tenderness,  to  express  every  shade  of  tender 
feeling,  was  '  set  as  a  flint. '  That  Eye,  ever  brimming 
with  tears,  was  ever  fixed  on  one  goal.  That  Character 
is  the  type  of  all  strength  and  of  all  gentleness. 

III.  The  basis  of  Christ's  fixed  resolve  in  filial  con- 
fidence. 


V.7]  THE  SERVANT'S  TRIUMPH  31 

'  The  Lord  God  will  help  Me. '     So  Christ  lived  by  faith. 

That  faith  led  to  this  heroic  resistance  and  immov- 
able resolution. 

That  confidence  of  divine  help  was  based  upon  con- 
sciousness of  obedience. 

It  is  most  blessed  for  us  to  have  Him  as  our  example 
of  faith  and  of  brave  opposition  to  all  the  antagonistic 
forces  around  us.  But  we  need  more  than  an  example. 
He  will  but  rebuke  our  wavering  purposes  of  obedience, 
if  He  is  no  more  than  our  pattern.  Thank  God,  He  is 
more,  even  our  Fountain  of  Power,  from  Whom  we 
can  draw  life  akin  to,  because  derived  from.  His  own. 
In  Him  we  can  feel  strength  stealing  into  flaccid  limbs, 
and  gain  '  the  wrestling  thews  that  throw  the  world.' 
If  we  are  '  in  Christ '  and  on  the  path  of  duty,  we  too 
may  be  able  to  set  our  faces  as  a  flint,  and  to  say 
truthfully :  '  None  of  these  things  move  me,  neither 
count  I  my  life  dear  to  myself,  that  I  may  finish  my 
course  with  joy. '  And  yet  we  may  withal  be  gentle, 
and  keep  hearts  '  open  as  day  to  melting  charity, '  and 
have  leisure  and  sympathy  to  spare  for  every  sorrow  of 
others,  and  a  hand  to  help  and  '  sustain  him  that  is  weary. ' 

THE  SERVANT'S   TRIUMPH 

'He  is  near  that  justifieth  Me;  who  will  contend  with  Me?  let  us  stand 
together:  who  is  Mine  adversary?  let  him  come  near  to  Me.  9.  Behold, 
the  Lord  God  will  help  Me;  who  is  he  that  shall  condemn  Me?  lo,  they  all 
shall  wax  old  as  a  garment;  the  moth  shall  eat  them  up.' — Isaiah  I.  8,  9. 

We  have  reached  the  final  words  of  this  prophecy, 
and  we  hear  in  them  a  tone  of  lofty  confidence  and 
triumph.  While  the  former  ones  sounded  plaintive 
like  soft  flute  music,  this  rings  out  clear  like  the  note 
of  a  trumpet  summoning  to  battle.  The  Servant  of 
the  Lord  seems  hero  to  be  eager  for  the  conflict,  not 


32  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

merely  patient  and  enduring,  not  merely  setting  His 
face  like  a  flint,  but  confidently  challenging  His  adver- 
saries, and  daring  them  to  the  strife. 

As  for  the  form  of  the  words,  the  image  underlying 
the  whole  is  that  of  a  suit  at  law.  It  is  noteworthy 
that  since  Isaiah  xli.  this  metaphor  has  run  through  the 
whole  prophecy.  The  great  controversy  is  God  versus 
Idols.  God  appears  at  the  bar  of  men,  pleads  His  cause, 
calls  His  witnesses  (xliii.  9).  'Let  them'  {i.e.  idols) 
'  bring  forth  their  witnesses  that  they  may  be  justified.' 

Possibly  the  form  of  the  words  here  is  owing  to  the 
dominance  of  that  idea  in  the  context,  and  implies 
nothing  more  than  the  general  notion  of  opposition 
and  victory.  But  it  is  at  least  worth  remembering 
that  in  the  life  of  Christ  we  have  many  instances  in 
which  the  prophetic  images  were  literally  fulfilled 
even  though  their  meaning  was  mainly  symbolical: 
as  e.g.  the  riding  on  the  ass,  the  birth  in  Bethlehem, 
the  silence  before  accusers,  '  a  bone  of  Him  shall  not 
be  broken, '  and  in  this  very  contest,  '  shame  and  spit- 
ting.'  So  here  there  may  be  included  a  reference  to 
that  time  when  the  hatred  of  opposition  reached  its 
highest  point — in  the  sufferings  and  death  of  our  Lord. 
And  it  is  at  least  a  remarkable  coincidence  that  that 
highest  point  was  reached  in  formal  trials  before  the 
ecclesiastical  and  civil  authorities,  for  the  purpose  of 
convicting  Him,  and  that  these  processes  as  legal  pro- 
cedures broke  down  so  signally. 

Keeping  up  the  metaphor,  we  mark  here — 

I.  The  Messiah's  lofty  challenge  to  His  accusers. 

II.  The  Messiah's  expectation  of  divine  vindication 
and  acquittal. 

III.  The  Messiah's  confidence  of  ultimate  triumph. 


vs.  8, 9]      THE  SERVANT'S  TRIUMPH  33 

I.  Messiah's  lofty  challenge  to  His  accusers. 

The  'justifying '  which  He  expects  may  refer  either 
to  personal  character  or  to  official  functional  faithful- 
ness. I  think  it  refers  to  both,  and  that  we  have  here, 
expressed  in  prophetic  outline,  not  only  the  fact  of 
Christ's  sinlessness,  but  the  fact  of  His  consciousness 
of  sinlessness. 

The  words  are  the  strongest  assertion  of  His  absolute 
freedom  from  anything  that  an  adversary  could  lay 
hold  of  on  which  to  found  a  charge,  and  not  merely 
so,  but  they  also  dare  to  assert  that  the  unerring  and 
all-penetrating  eye  of  the  Judge  of  all  will  look  into  His 
heart,  and  find  nothing  there  but  the  mirrored  image 
of  His  own  perfection.  I  do  not  need  to  dwell  on  the 
fact  of  Christ's  sinlessness,  that  He  is  perfect  manhood 
without  stain,  without  defect.  I  have  had  occasion  to 
touch  upon  that  truth  in  a  former  sermon  on  '  I  was 
not  rebellious, '  Here  we  have  to  do  not  so  much  with 
sinlessness  as  with  the  consciousness  of  sinlessness. 

Now  note  that  consciousness  on  Christ's  part. 

We  have  to  reckon  with  the  fact  of  it  as  expressed 
in  His  own  words :  '  I  do  always  the  things  that  please 
Him.  Which  of  you  convinceth  Me  of  sin?  '  '  The 
Prince  of  this  world  cometh  and  hath  nothing  in  Me. ' 

In  Him  there  is  the  absence  of  all  trace  of  sense  of  sin. 

No  prayer  for  forgiveness  comes  from  His  lips. 

No  penitence,  no  acknowledgment  of  even  weakness 
is  heard  from  Him.  Even  in  His  baptism,  which  for 
others  was  an  acknowledgment  of  impurity,  He  puts 
His  submission  to  the  rite,  not  on  the  ground  of  need- 
ing to  be  washed  from  sin,  but  of  '  fulfilling  all  right- 
eousness. ' 

Now,  unless  Christ  was  sinless,  what  do  we  say  of 

VOL.  IT.  c 


34  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

these  assertions?  '  If  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we 
deceive  ourselves  and  the  truth  is  not  in  us ' — are  we 
to  apply  that  canon  to  Him  when  He  stands  before  us 
and  asks,  '  Which  of  you  convinceth  Me  of  sin?  '  Surely 
it  augurs  small  self-knowledge  or  a  low  moral  stand- 
ard if,  from  the  lips  of  a  religious  teacher,  there  never 
comes  one  word  to  indicate  that  he  has  felt  the  hold 
of  evil  on  him.  I  make  bold  to  say  that  if  Christ  were 
not  sinless,  the  Apostle  Paul  stood  far  above  Him,  with 
his  *  of  whom  I  am  chief. '  What  difference  would 
there  be  between  Him  and  the  Pharisees  who  called 
forth  His  bitterest  words  by  this  very  absence  in  them 
of  consciousness  of  sin :  '  If  ye  were  blind  ye  would  have 
no  sin,  but  now  ye  say,  We  see,  therefore  your  sin 
remaineth. ' 

Singularly  enough  the  world  has  accepted  Him  at 
His  own  estimate,  and  has  felt  that  these  lofty  asser- 
tions of  absolute  perfection  were  borne  out  by  His  life, 
and  were  consistent  with  the  utmost  lowliness  of  heart. 

As  to  the  adversary's  failure,  I  need  only  recall  the 
close  of  His  life,  which  is  representative  of  the  whole 
impression  made  on  the  world  by  Him.  What  a  won- 
derful and  singular  concurrence  of  testimonies  was 
borne  to  His  pure  and  blameless  life!  After  months 
of  hatred  and  watching,  even  the  rulers'  lynx-eyed 
jealousy  found  nothing,  and  they  had  to  fall  back 
upon  false  witnesses.  '  Hearest  thou  not  how  many 
things  they  witness  against  Thee?  '  He  stood  with  un- 
moved silence,  and  the  lies  fell  down  dead  at  His  feet. 
Had  He  answered,  they  would  have  been  preserved 
and  owed  their  immortality  to  the  Gospels:  He  held 
His  peace  and  they  vanished.  All  attempts  failed  so 
signally  that  at  the  last  they  were  fain,  in  well-simu- 


vs.  8, 9]      THE  SERVANT'S  TRIUMPH  35 

lated  holy  abhorrence,  to  base  His  condemnation  on 
what  He  had  said  in  their  presence.  '  How  think  ye, 
ye  have  heard  the  blasphemy?  '  So  all  that  the  adver- 
sary, raking  through  a  life,  could  find,  was  that  one 
word.  That  was  His  sin;  in  all  else  He  was  pure. 
Eemember  Pilate's  acquittal:  '  I  find  no  fault  in  Him,' 
and  his  wife's  warning,  'Have  thou  nothing  to  do  with 
that  just  Person. '  Think  of  Judas,  '  I  have  sinned  in 
that  I  have  betrayed  the  innocent  blood.'  Listen  to  the 
penitent  thief's  low  voice  gasping  out  in  his  pangs  and 
almost  collapse :  '  This  man  hath  done  nothing  amiss. ' 
Listen  to  the  Centurion  telling  the  impression  made  even 
on  his  rough  nature :    '  Truly  this  was  a  righteous  Man. ' 

These  are  the  answers  to  the  Servant's  challenge, 
wrung  from  the  lips  of  His  adversaries;  and  they  but 
represent  the  universal  judgment  of  humanity. 

There  is  one  Man  whose  life  has  been  without  stain 
or  spot,  whose  soul  has  never  been  crossed  by  a  breath 
of  passion,  nor  dimmed  by  a  speck  of  sin,  whose  will 
has  ever  been  filled  with  happy  obedience,  whose  con- 
science has  been  undulled  by  evil  and  untaught  to 
speak  in  condemnation,  whose  whole  nature  has  been 
like  some  fair  marble,  pure  in  hue,  perfect  in  form, 
and  unstained  to  the  very  core.  There  is  one  Man 
who  can  front  the  most  hostile  scrutiny  with  the  bold 
challenge,  '  Which  of  you  convinceth  Me  of  sin?  '  and 
His  very  haters  have  to  answer,  '  I  find  no  fault  in 
Him,'  while  those  that  love  Him  rejoice  to  proclaim 
Him  '  holy,  harmless,  undefiled,  and  separate  from 
sinners.'  There  is  one  Man  who  can  front  the  most 
rigid  Law  of  Duty  and  say,  '  I  came  not  to  destroy  but 
to  fulfil, '  and  the  stony  tables  seem  to  glow  with  tender 
light,  as  of  rocky  cliffs  in  morning  sunshine,  attesting 


36  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

that  He  has  indeed  fulfilled  all  righteousness.  There 
is  one  Man  who  can  stand  before  God  without  repent- 
ance or  confession,  and  whose  claim  'I  do  always  the 
things  that  please  Him,'  the  awful  voice  from  the 
opening  heavens  endorses,  when  it  proclaims :  '  This 
is  My  beloved  Son  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased. '  The 
lowly  Servant  of  God  flings  out  His  challenge  to  the 
universe :  '  Who  will  contend  with  Me  ?  '  and  that  gage 
has  lain  in  the  lists  for  nineteen  centuries  unlifted. 

II.  The  Messiah's  expectation  of  divine  vindication 
and  acquittal. 

Like  many  another  man,  Christ  had  to  strengthen 
Himself  against  calumny  and  slander  by  turning  to 
God,  and  finding  comfort  in  the  belief  that  there  was 
One  who  would  do  Him  right,  and  as  throughout  this 
context  we  have  had  the  true  humanity  of  our  Lord  in 
great  prominence,  it  is  worth  while  to  dwell  for  a 
moment  on  that  thought  of  His  real  sharing  in  the 
pain  of  misconstruction  and  groundless  charges,  and 
of  His  too  having  to  say,  as  we  have  so  often  to  say, 
'  Well,  there  is  one  who  knows.  Men  may  condemn 
but  God  will  acquit. ' 

But  there  is  something  more  than  that  here.  The 
divine  vindication  and  acquittal  is  not  a  mere  hidden 
thought  and  judgment  in  the  mind  of  God.  It  is  a 
declaring  and  showing  to  be  innocent,  and  that  not 
by  word  but  by  deed.  That  expectation  seemed  to  be 
annihilated  and  made  ludicrous  by  His  death.  But 
the  '  justifying '  of  which  our  text  speaks  takes  place 
in  Christ's  resurrection  and  ascension. 

'  Manifest  in  the  flesh,  justified  in  the  spirit '  (1  Tim- 
othy iii.  1 6).  '  Declared  to  be  the  Son  of  God  with  power, 
...  by  the  resurrection  from  the  dead  '  (Rom.  i.  4). 


vs.  8, 9]      THE  SERVANT'S  TRIUMPH  37 

His  death  seems  the  entire  abandonment  of  this  holy 
and  sinless  man.  It  seems  to  demonstrate  His  claims 
to  be  madness,  His  hope  to  be  futile,  His  promises  to  be 
wind.  No  wonder  that  the  sorrowing  apostles  wailed, 
*  We  trusted  that  it  had  been  He  who  should  have  re- 
deemed Israel.'  The  death  of  Christ,  if  it  were  but  a 
martyr's  death,  and  if  we  had  to  believe  that  that  frame 
had  crumbled  into  dust,  and  that  heart  ceased  for  ever 
to  beat,  would  not  only  destroy  the  worth  of  all  that  He 
spoke,  but  would  be  the  saddest  instance  in  all  history 
of  the  irreversible  sway  that  death  wields  over  all 
mankind,  and  would  deepen  the  darkness  and  sadden 
the  gloom  of  the  grave.  True,  there  were  not  wanting 
even  in  His  dying  hours  mysterious  indications,  such 
as  His  promise  to  the  penitent  thief.  But  these  only 
make  the  disappointment  the  deeper,  if  there  was  noth- 
ing more  after  His  death. 

So  Christ's  justification  is  in  His  resurrection  and 
ascension. 

III.   The  Messiah's  confidence  of  ultimate  triumph. 

In  the  last  words  of  the  text  the  adversaries  are 
massed  together.  The  confidence  that  the  Lord  God 
will  help  and  justify  leads  to  the  conviction  that  all 
opposition  to  Him  is  futile  and  leads  to  destruction. 

We  see  the  historical  fulfilment  in  the  fate  of  the 
nation.     '  His  blood  be  upon  us  and  upon  our  children. ' 

We  have  a  truth  applying  universally  that  antag- 
onism to  Him  is  self-destructive. 

Two  forms  of  destruction  are  here  named.  There  is 
a  slow  decay  going  on  in  the  opponents  and  their 
opposition,  as  a  garment  waxing  old,  and  there  is  a  being 
fretted  away  by  the  imperceptible  working  of  external 
causes,  as  by  gnawing  moths. 


38  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

Applied  to  persons. 

To  opposing  systems. 

How  many  antagonists  the  Gospel  has  had,  and  one 
after  another  has  been  antiquated,  and  their  books  are 
only  known  because  fragments  of  them  are  preserved 
in  Christian  writings.  Paganism  is  gone  from  Europe, 
and  its  idols  are  in  our  museums.  Each  generation 
has  its  own  phase  of  opposition,  which  lasts  for  a  little 
while.  The  mists  round  the  sun  melt,  the  clouds  piled 
in  the  north,  surging  up  to  bury  it  beneath  their  banks, 
are  dissipated.  The  sea  roars  and  smashes  on  the  cliffs, 
but  it  ebbs  and  calms.  Some  of  us  have  seen  more  than 
one  school  of  thought  which  came  to  the  assault  of 
Christianity,  with  colours  flying  and  drums  rattling, 
defeated  utterly  and  forgotten,  and  so  it  will  always  be. 
One  may  be  sure  that  each  enemy  in  turn  will  descend 
to  the  oblivion  that  has  already  received  so  many,  and 
can  imagine  these  beaten  foes  rising  from  their  seats  to 
welcome  the  newcomer  with  the  sad  greeting:  'Art  thou 
also  become  weak  as  we?  art  thou  become  like  unto  us?  ' 

We  are  '  justified  '  in  His  '  justification.' 

The  real  connection  between  us  and  Christ  by  faith, 
makes  our  justification  to  be  involved  in  His,  so  that 
it  is  no  mere  accommodation  but  a  profound  perception 
of  the  real  relation  between  Christ  and  us,  when  Paul, 
in  Eomans  viii. '34,  triumphantly  claims  the  words  of 
our  text  for  Christ's  disciples,  and  rings  out  their  chal- 
lenge on  behalf  of  all  believers:  '  It  is  God  that  justifieth, 
who  is  he  that  condemneth?  ' 

Do  you  trust  in  Christ?  Then  you  too  can  dare  to 
say :  '  The  Lord  God  will  help  me ;  who  is  he  that  shall 
condemn  me? ' 


A  CALL  TO   FAITH 

'Who  is  among  you  that  feareth  the  Lord,  that  obeyeth  the  voice  of  his 
servant,  that  walketh  in  darkness,  and  hath  no  light?  let  him  trust  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  and  stay  upon  his  God.' — Isaiah  1.  10. 

The  persons  addressed  in  this  call  to  faith  are  '  those 
who  fear  the  Lord, '  and  '  obey  the  voice  of  His  Servant. ' 
In  that  collocation  is  implied  that  these  two  things  are 
necessarily  connected,  so  that  obedience  to  Christ  is  the 
test  of  true  religion,  and  the  fear  of  the  Lord  does  not 
exist  where  the  word  of  the  Son  is  neglected  or  re- 
jected. 

But  besides  that  most  fruitful  and  instructive  juxta- 
position, other  important  thoughts  come  into  view 
here.  The  fact  that  the  call  to  faith  is  addressed  to 
those  who  are  regarded  as  already  fearing  God  suggests 
the  need  for  renewed  and  constantly  repeated  acts  of 
confidence,  at  every  stage  of  the  Christian  life,  and 
opens  up  the  whole  subject  of  the  growth  and  progress 
of  individual  religion,  as  secured  by  the  continuous 
exercise  of  faith.  The  call  is  addressed  to  all  at  every 
stage  of  advancement.  Of  course  it  is  addressed  also 
to  those  who  are  disobedient  and  rebellious.  But  that 
wider  aspect  of  the  merciful  invitation  does  not  come 
into  view  here. 

But  there  is  another  clause  in  the  description  of  the 
persons  addressed,  *  Who  walketh  in  darkness  and  hath 
no  light.'  This  is,  no  doubt,  primarily  a  reference  to 
the  great  sorrow  that  filled,  like  a  gloomy  thunder- 
cloud, the  horizon  of  Jewish  prophets,  small  and  unin- 
teresting as  it  seems  to  us,  namely,  the  captivity  of 
Israel  and  their  expulsion  from  their  land.  The  faith- 
ful remnant  are  not  to  escape  their  share  in  the  national 
calamity.     But  while  it  lasts,  they  are  to  wait  patiently 


40  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

on  the  Lord,  and  not  to  cast  away  their  confidence, 
though  all  seems  dark  and  dreary. 

The  exhortation  thus  regarded  suggests  the  power 
and  duty  of  faith  even  in  times  of  disaster  and  sorrow. 
But  another  meaning  has  often  been  attached  to  these 
words,  they  have  been  lifted  into  another  region,  the 
spiritual,  and  have  been  supposed  to  refer  to  a  state  of 
feeling  not  unknown  to  devout  hearts,  in  which  the 
religious  life  is  devoid  of  joy  and  peace.  That  is  a 
phase  of  Christian  experience,  which  meets  an}''  one 
who  knows  much  of  the  workings  of  men's  hearts,  and 
of  his  own,  when  faith  is  exercised  with  but  little  of 
the  light  of  faith,  and  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  cherished 
with  but  scant  joy  in  the  Lord.  Now  if  it  be  remem- 
bered that  such  an  application  of  the  words  is  not  their 
original  purpose,  there  can  be  no  harm  in  using  them 
so.  Indeed  we  may  say  that,  as  the  words  are  perfectly 
general,  they  include  a  reference  to  all  darkness  of 
life  or  soul,  however  produced,  whether  it  come  from  the 
night  of  sorrow  falling  on  us  from  without,  or  from 
mists  and  gloom  rising  like  heavy  vapours  from  our  own 
hearts.  So  considered,  the  text  suggests  the  one  rem- 
edy for  all  gloom  and  weakness  in  the  spiritual  life. 

Thus,  then,  we  have  three  different  sets  of  circum- 
stances in  which  faith  is  enforced  as  the  source  of  true 
strength  and  our  all-embracing  duty.  In  outward  sor- 
row and  trial,  trust;  in  inward  darkness  and  sadness, 
trust ;  in  every  stage  of  Christian  progress,  trust.     Or 

I.  Faith  the  light  in  the  darkness  of  the  world. 

II.  Faith  the  light  in  the  darkness  of  the  soul. 

III.  Faith  the  light  in  every  stage  of  Christian  progress. 

I.  Faith  our  light  in  the  darkness  of  the  world. 


V.  10]  A  CALL  TO  FAITH  41 

The  mystery  and  standing  problem  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment is  the  coexistence  of  goodness  and  sorrow,  and 
the  mystery  still  remains,  and  ever  will  remain,  a  fact. 
It  is  partially  alleviated  if  we  remember  that  one  main 
purpose  of  all  our  sorrows  is  to  lead  us  to  this  confi- 
dence. 

1.  The  call  to  faith  is  the  true  voice  of  all  our 
sorrows. 

It  seems  easy  to  trust  when  all  is  bright,  but  really  it 
is  just  as  hard,  only  we  can  more  easily  deceive  our- 
selves, when  physical  well-being  makes  us  comfortable. 
We  are  less  conscious  of  our  own  emptiness,  we  mask 
our  poverty  from  ourselves,  we  do  not  seem  to  need 
God  so  much.  But  sorrow  reveals  our  need  to  us. 
Other  props  are  struck  away,  and  it  is  either  collapse 
or  Him.  We  learn  the  vanity,  the  transiency,  of  all 
besides. 

Sorrow  reveals  God,  as  the  pillar  of  cloud  glowed 
brighter  when  the  evening  fell.  Sorrow  is  meant  to 
awaken  the  powers  that  are  apt  to  sleep  in  prosperity. 

So  the  true  voice  of  all  our  griefs  is  '  Come  up  hither. ' 
They  call  us  to  trust,  as  nightfall  calls  us  to  light  up 
our  lamps.  The  snow  keeps  the  hidden  seeds  warm; 
shepherds  burn  heather  on  the  hillside  that  young 
grass  may  spring. 

2.  The  call  to  faith  echoes  from  the  voice  of  the 
Servant. 

Jesus  in  His  darkness  rested  on  God,  and  in  all  His 
sorrows  was  yet  anointed  with  the  oil  of  gladness.  In 
every  pang  He  has  been  before  us.  The  rack  is  sancti- 
fied because  He  has  been  stretched  upon  it. 

3.  The  substance  of  the  call. 

It  is  to  trust,  not  to  anything  more.     No  attempts  to 


42  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

stifle  tears  are  required.  There  is  no  sin  in  sorrow. 
The  emotions  which  we  feel  to  God  in  bright  days  are 
not  appropriate  at  such  times.  There  are  seasons  in 
every  life  when  all  that  we  can  say  is,  '  Truly  this  is  a 
grief,  and  I  will  bear  it. ' 

What  then  is  required?  Assurance  of  God's  loving 
will  sending  sorrow.  Assurance  of  God's  strengthen- 
ing presence  in  it,  assurance  of  deliverance  from  it. 
These,  not  more,  are  required;  these  are  the  elements 
of  the  faith  here  called  for. 

Such  faith  may  co-exist  with  the  keenest  sense  of  loss. 
The  true  attitude  in  sorrow  may  be  gathered  from 
Christ's  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  contrasted  with  the 
excessive  mourning  of  the  sisters,  and  the  feigned  grief 
of  the  Jews. 

There  are  times  when  the  most  that  we  can  do  is  to 
trust  even  in  the  great  darkness,  '  Though  He  slay  me 
yet  will  I  trust  in  Him, '  Submissive  silence  is  some- 
times the  most  eloquent  confession  of  faith.  '  I  was 
dumb,  I  opened  not  my  mouth,  because  Thou  didst  it.' 

4.  The  blessed  results  of  such  faith. 

It  is  implied  that  we  may  find  all  that  we  need,  and 
more,  in  God.  Have  we  to  mourn  friends?  '  In  the 
year  that  King  Uzziah  died,  I  saw  the  Lord  sitting  on 
a  throne.'  Have  we  lost  wealth?  We  have  in  Him  a 
treasure  that  moth  or  rust  cannot  touch.  Are  our 
hopes  blasted?  '  Happy  is  He  .  .  .  whose  hope  is  in 
the  Lord  his  God.'  Is  our  health  broken?  '  I  shall  yet 
praise  Him,  who  is  the  health  of  my  countenance.' 
'  The  Lord  is  able  to  give  thee  much  more  than  these. ' 

How  can  we  face  the  troubles  of  life  without  Him? 
God  calls  us  v/hen  in  darkness,  and  by  the  darkness,  to 
trust  in  His  name  and  stay  ourselves  on  Him.     Happy 


V.  10]  A  CALL  TO  FAITH  43 

are  we  if  we  answer  '  Though  the  fig-tree  shall  not  blos- 
som, neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the  vines  .  .  .  yet  I  will  re- 
joice in  the  Lord,  and  joy  in  the  God  of  my  salvation.' 

II.  Faith,  our  light  in  the  darkness  of  the  soul. 

No  doubt  there  may  be  such  a  thing  as  true  fear  of 
God  in  the  soul  along  with  spiritual  darkness,  faith 
without  the  joy  of  faith.  Now  this  condition  seems 
contradictory  of  the  very  nature  of  the  Christian  life. 
For  religion  is  union  with  God  who  is  light,  and  if  we 
walk  in  Him,  we  are  in  the  light.  How  then  can  such 
experience  be? 

We  must  dismiss  the  notion  of  God's  desertion  of  the 
trusting  soul.  He  is  always  the  same;  He  has  'never 
said  to  the  seed  of  Jacob,  Seek  ye  Me  in  vain.'  But 
while  putting  aside  that  false  explanation,  we  can  see 
how  such  darkness  may  be.  If  our  religious  life  was 
in  more  vigorous  exercise,  more  pure,  perfect  and  con- 
tinuous, there  would  be  no  separation  of  faith  and  the 
joy  of  faith.  But  we  have  not  such  unruffled,  perfect, 
uninterrupted  faith,  and  hence  there  may  be,  and 
often  is,  faith  without  much  joy  of  faith.  I  would  not 
say  that  such  experience  is  always  the  fruit  of  sin. 
But  certainly  we  are  not  to  blame  Him  or  to  think  of 
Him  as  breaking  His  promises,  or  departing  from  His 
nature.  No  principles,  be  they  ever  so  firmly  held,  ever 
so  undoubtingly  received,  ever  so  passionately  embraced, 
exert  their  whole  power  equally  at  all  moments  in  a 
life.  There  come  times  of  languor  when  they  seem  to 
be  mere  words,  dead  commonplaces,  as  unlike  their 
former  selves  as  sapless  winter  boughs  to  their  summer 
pride  of  leafy  beauty.  The  same  variation  in  our 
realising  grasp  affects  the  truths  of  the  Gospel.  Some- 
times they  seem  but  words,  with  all  the  life  and  power 


44  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

sucked  out  of  them,  pale  shadows  of  themselves,  or 
like  the  dried  bed  of  a  wady  with  blazing,  white  stones, 
where  flashing  water  used  to  leap,  and  all  the  flowerets 
withered,  which  once  bent  their  meek  little  heads  to 
drink.  No  facts  are  always  equally  capable  of  excit- 
ing their  correspondent  emotions.  Those  which  most 
closely  affect  our  personal  life,  in  which  we  find  our 
deepest  joys,  are  not  always  present  in  our  minds,  and 
when  they  are,  do  not  always  touch  the  springs  of  our 
feelings.  No  possessions  are  always  equally  precious 
to  us.  The  rich  man  is  not  always  conscious  with  equal 
satisfaction  of  his  wealth.  If,  then,  the  way  from  the 
mind  to  the  emotions  is  not  always  equally  open,  there 
is  a  reason  why  there  may  be  faith  without  light  of 
joy.  If  the  thoughts  are  not  always  equally  concen- 
trated on  the  things  which  produce  joy,  there  is  a  reason 
why  there  may  be  the  habit  of  fearing  God,  though 
there  be  not  the  present  vigorous  exercise  of  faith,  and 
consequently  but  little  light. 

Another  reason  may  lie  in  the  disturbing  and  sadden- 
ing influence  of  earthly  cares  and  sorrows.  There  are 
all  weathers  in  a  year.  And  the  highest  hope  and 
nearest  possible  approach  to  joy  is  sometimes  '  Unto 
the  upright  there  ariseth  light  in  the  darkness.'  Our 
lives  are  sometimes  like  an  Arctic  winter  in  which  for 
many  days  is  no  sun. 

Another  reason  may  be  found  in  the  very  fact  that 
we  are  apt  to  look  impatiently  for  peace  and  joy,  and 
to  be  more  exercised  with  these  than  with  that  which 
produces  them. 

Another  may  be  errors  or  mistakes  about  God  and 
His  Gospel. 

Another  may  be  absorption  with  our  own  sin  instead 


V.  10]  A  CALL  TO  FAITH  45 

of  with  Him.  To  all  these  add  temperament,  educa- 
tion, habit,  example,  influence  of  body  on  the  mind, 
and  of  course  also  positive  inconsistencies  and  a  low 
tone  of  Christian  life. 

It  is  clear  then  that,  if  these  be  the  causes  of  this 
state,  the  one  cure  for  it  is  to  exercise  our  faith  more 
energetically. 

Trust,  do  not  look  back.  We  are  tempted  to  cast 
away  our  confidence  and  to  say:  What  profit  shall  I 
have  if  I  pray  unto  Him?  But  it  is  on  looking  on- 
wards, not  backwards,  that  safety  lies. 

Trust,  do  not  think  about  your  sins. 

Trust,  do  not  think  so  much  about  jour  joy. 

It  is  in  the  occupation  of  heart  and  mind  with  Jesus 
that  joy  and  peace  come.  To  make  them  our  direct 
aim  is  the  way  not  to  attain  them.  Though  now  there 
seems  a  long  wintry  interval  between  seed  time  and 
harvest,  yet  'in  due  season  we  shall  reap  if  we  faint  not. ' 

'  In  the  fourth  watch  of  the  night  Jesus  came  unto 
them. ' 

III.  Faith  our  guiding  light  in  every  stage  of  Chris- 
tian progress. 

Those  who  already  '  fear  God'  are  in  the  text  ex- 
horted to  trust. 

In  the  most  advanced  Christian  life  there  are 
temptations  to  abandon  our  confidence.  We  never  on 
earth  come  to  such  a  point  as  that,  without  effort,  we 
are  sure  to  continue  in  the  way.  True,  habit  is  a 
wonderful  ally  of  goodness,  and  it  is  a  great  thing  to 
have  it  on  our  side,  but  all  our  lives  long,  there  will  be 
hindrances  without  and  within  which  need  effort  and 
self -repression.  On  earth  there  is  no  time  when  it  is 
safe  for  us  to  go  unarmed.     The  force  of  gravitation 


46  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

acts  however  high  we  climb.  Not  till  heaven  is  reached 
will  '  love  'be  'its  own  security, '  and  nature  coincide 
with  grace.  And  even  in  heaven  faith  '  abideth, '  but 
there  it  will  be  without  effort. 

1.  The  most  advanced  Christian  life  needs  a  perpetual 
renewal  and  repetition  of  past  acts  of  faith. 

It  cannot  live  on  a  past  any  more  than  the  body  can 
subsist  on  last  year's  food.  The  past  is  like  the  deep 
portions  of  coral  reefs,  a  mere  platform  for  the  living 
present  which  shines  on  the  surface  of  the  sea,  and 
grows.     We  must  gather  manna  daily. 

The  life  is  continued  by  the  same  means  as  that  by 
which  it  was  begun.  There  is  no  new  duty  or  method 
for  the  most  advanced  Christian;  he  has  to  do  just 
what  he  has  been  doing  for  half  a  century.  We  cannot 
transcend  the  creatural  position,  we  are  ever  depend- 
ent. '  To  hoar  hairs  will  I  carry  you. '  The  initial  point 
is  prolonged  into  a  continuous  line. 

2.  The  most  advanced  and  mature  faith  is  capable  of 
increase,  in  regard  to  its  knowledge  of  its  object,  and 
in  intensity,  constancy,  power.  At  first  it  may  be  a 
tremulous  trust,  afterwards  it  should  become  an  assured 
confidence.  At  first  it  may  be  but  a  dim  recognition,  as 
in  a  glass  darkly,  of  the  great  love  which  has  redeemed 
us  at  a  great  price;  afterwards  it  should  become  the 
clear  vision  of  the  trusted  Friend  and  lifelong  com- 
panion of  our  souls,  who  is  all  in  all  to  us.  At  first  it 
may  be  an  interrupted  hold,  afterwards  it  should  become 
such  a  grasp  as  the  roots  of  a  tree  have  on  the  soil. 
At  first  it  may  be  a  feeble  power  ruling  over  our  rebel 
selves,  like  some  king  beleaguered  in  his  capital,  who 
has  no  sway  beyond  its  walls,  afterwards  it  should  be- 
come a  peaceful  sovereign  who  guides  and  sways  all  the 


V.  10]  DYING  FIRES  47 

powers  of  the  soul  and  outgoings  of  the  life.  At  first 
it  may  be  like  a  premature  rose  putting  forth  pale  petals 
on  an  almost  leafless  bough,  afterwards  the  whole  tree 
should  be  blossomed  over  with  fragrant  flowers,  the 
homes  of  light  and  sweetness.  The  highest  faith  may 
be  heightened,  and  the  spirits  before  the  throne  pray 
the  prayer,  '  Lord,  increase  our  faith. ' 

For  us  all,  then,  the  merciful  voice  of  the  servant 
of  the  Lord  calls  to  His  Hght.  Our  faith  is  our  light  in 
darkness,  only  as  a  window  is  the  light  of  a  house, 
or  the  eye,  of  the  body,  because  it  admits  and  discerns 
that  true  light.  He  calls  us  each  from  the  darkness. 
Do  not  try  to  make  fires  for  yourselves,  ineffectual 
and  transient,  but  look  to  Him,  and  you  shall  not 
walk  in  darkness,  even  amid  the  gloom  of  earth,  but 
shall  have  light  in  your  darkness,  till  the  time  come 
when,  in  a  clearer  heaven  and  a  lighter  air,  '  Thy  sun 
shall  no  more  go  down,  neither  shall  thy  moon  with- 
draw itself,  for  the  Lord  shall  be  thine  everlasting 
light,  and  the  days  of  thy  mourning  shall  be  ended.' 

DYING  FIRES 

'Behold,  all  ye  that  kindle  a  fire,  that  gird  yourselves  about  with  fire- 
brands :  walk  ye  in  the  flame  of  your  fire,  and  amonj'  the  brands  that  ye 
have  kindled.  This  shall  ye  have  of  mine  hand;  ye  saall  lie  down  in  sor- 
row.'— Isaiah  1.  11. 

The  scene  brought  before  us  in  these  words  is  that  of 
a  company  of  belated  travellers  in  some  desert,  light- 
ing a  little  fire  that  glimmers  ineffectual  in  the  darkness 
of  the  eerie  waste.  They  huddle  round  its  dying  embers 
for  a  little  warmth  and  company,  and  they  hope  it  will 
scare  wolf  and  jackal,  but  their  fuel  is  all  burned,  and 
they  have  to  go  to  sleep  without  its  solace  and  security. 
The  prophet's  imaginative  picture  is  painted  from  life, 


48  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

and  is  a  sad  reality  in  the  cases  of  all  who  seek  to 
warm  themselves  at  any  fire  that  they  kindle  for  them- 
selves, apart  from  God. 

I.  A  sad,  true  picture  of  human  life. 

It  does  not  cover,  nor  is  presented  by  the  prophet  as 
covering,  all  the  facts  of  experience.  Every  man  has 
his  share  of  sunshine,  but  still  it  is  true  of  all  who  are 
not  living  in  dependence  on  and  communion  with  God, 
that  they  are  but  travellers  in  the  dark. 

Scripture  uses  the  image  of  darkness  as  symbolic  of 
three  sad  facts  of  our  experience :  ignorance,  sin,  sorrow. 
Are  not  all  these  the  characteristics  of  godless  lives? 

As  for  ignorance — a  godless  man  has  no  key  to  the 
awful  problems  that  front  him.  He  knows  not  God, 
who  is  to  him  a  dread,  a  name,  a  mystery.  He  knows 
not  himself,  the  depths  of  his  nature,  its  possibilities 
for  good  or  evil,  whence  it  cometh  nor  whither  it  goeth. 
He  has  no  solution  for  the  riddle  of  the  universe.  It  is 
to  him  a  chaos,  and  darkness  is  upon  the  face  of  the  deep. 

As  to  sin,  the  darkness  of  ignorance  is  largely  due  to 
the  darkness  of  sin.  In  every  heart  comes  sometimes 
the  consciousness  that  it  is  thus  darkened  by  sin.  The 
sense  of  sin  is  with  all  men  more  or  less — much  per- 
verted, often  wrong  in  its  judgments,  feeble,  easily 
silenced,  but  for  all  that  it  is  there — and  it  is  great 
part  of  the  cold  obstruction  that  shuts  out  the  light. 
Sin  weaves  the  pall  that  shrouds  the  world. 

As  for  darkness  of  sorrow — we  must  beware  that  we 
do  not  exaggerate.  God  makes  His  sun  to  rise  on  the 
evil  and  the  good,  and  there  is  gladness  in  every  life, 
much  that  arises  from  fulfilled  desires,  from  accom- 
plished purposes,  from  gratified  affections.  But  when 
all  this  has  been  freely  admitted,  still  sadness  crouches 


V.  11]  DYING  FIRES  49 

somewhere  in  all  hearts,  and  over  every  life  the  storm 
sometimes  stoops. 

We  need  nothing  beyond  our  own  experience  and  the 
sHghtest  knowledge  of  other  hearts  to  know  how 
shallow  and  one-sided  a  view  of  life  that  is  which  sees 
only  the  joy  and  forgets  the  sorrow,  which  ignores  the 
night  and  thinks  only  of  the  day ;  which,  looking  out 
on  nature,  is  blind  to  the  pain  and  agony,  the  horror 
and  the  death,  which  are  as  real  parts  of  it  as  bright- 
ness and  beauty,  love  and  life.  Every  little  valley  that 
lies  in  lovely  loneliness  has  its  scenes  of  desolation, 
and  tempest  has  broken  over  the  fairest  scenes.  Every 
river  has  drowned  its  man.  Over  every  inch  of  blue  sky 
the  thunder  cloud  has  rolled.  Every  summer  has  its 
winter,  every  day  its  night,  every  life  its  death.  All 
stars  set,  all  moons  wane.  '  Bare  ruined  choirs  where 
late  the  sweet  birds  sang  '  come  after  every  leafy  June. 

Sorrow  is  as  deeply  embedded  in  the  necessity  and 
constitution  of  things  as  joy.  '  God  hath  set  one  over 
against  another,  and  hath  made  all  things  double. ' 

II.  The  vain  attempts  at  light. 

There  is  bitter  irony  in  the  prophet's  description  of 
the  poor  flickering  spot  of  light  in  the  black  waste  and 
of  its  swift  dying  out.  The  travellers  without  a  watch- 
fire  are  defenceless  from  midnight  prowlers.  How  full 
of  solemn  truth  about  godless  lives  the  vivid  outline 
picture  is! 

Men  try  to  free  themselves  from  the  miseries  of 
ignorance,  sin,  and  sorrow. 

Think  of  the  insufficiency  of  all  such  attempts,  the 
feeble  flicker  which  glimmers  for  an  hour,  and  then  fuel 
fails  and  it  goes  out.  Then  the  travellers  can  journey 
no  further,  but  'lie  down  in  sorrow,'   and  without  a 

VOL.  II.  D 


50  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  l. 

watchfire  they  become  a  prey  to  all  the  beasts  of  the 
field.     It  is  a  little  picture  taken  from  the  life. 

It  vividl}''  paints  how  men  will  try  to  free  themselves 
from  the  miseries  of  their  condition,  how  insufficient 
all  their  attempts  are,  how  transient  the  relief,  and  how 
bitter  and  black  the  end. 

We  may  apply  these  thoughts  to — 

1.  Men-made  grounds  of  hope  before  God. 

2.  Men-made  attempts  to  read  the  mysteries. 

We  do  not  say  this  of  all  human  learning,  but  of 
that  which,  apart  from  God's  revelation,  deals  with  the 
subjects  of  that  revelation. 

3.  Men -made  efforts  at  self -reformation. 

4.  Men-made  attempts  at  alleviating  sorrow. 
Scripture  abounds  in  other  metaphors  for  the  same 

solemn  spiritual  facts  as  are  set  before  us  in  this 
picture  of  the  dying  watchfire  and  the  sad  men  watch- 
ing its  decline.  Godless  lives  draw  from  broken  cisterns 
out  of  which  the  water  runs.  They  build  with  untem- 
pered  mortar.  They  lean  on  broken  reeds  that  wound 
the  hand  pressed  on  them.  They  spend  money  for 
that  which  is  not  bread.  But  all  these  metaphors  put 
together  do  not  tell  all  the  vanity,  disappointments, 
and  final  failure  and  ruin  of  such  a  life.  That  last 
glimpse  given  in  the  text  of  the  sorrowful  sleeper 
stretched  by  the  black  ashes,  with  darkness  round  and 
hopeless  heaviness  within,  points  to  an  issue  too  awful 
to  be  dwelt  on  by  a  preacher,  and  too  awful  not  to  be 
gravely  considered  by  each  of  us  for  himself. 

III.  The  light  from  God. 

What  would  the  dead  fire  and  the  ring  of  ashes  on 
the  sand  matter  when  morning  dawned?  Jesus  is  our 
Sun.  He  rises,  and  the  spectres  of  the  night  melt  into 
thin  air,  and  '  joy  cometh  in  the  morning. '     He  floods 


V.  11]      THE  AWAKENING  OF  ZION  51 

our  ignorance  with  knowledge  of  the  Father  whose 
name  He  declares,  with  knowledge  of  ourselves,  of  the 
world,  of  our  destiny  and  our  duty,  our  hopes  and  our 
home.  He  takes  away  the  sin  of  the  world.  He  gives 
the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning.  For  every  human  neces- 
sity He  is  enough.  Follow  Him  and  your  life's  pilgrim- 
age shall  not  be  a  midnight  one,  but  accomplished  in 
sunshine.  '  I  am  the  light  of  the  world ;  he  that  fol- 
loweth  Me  shall  not  walk  in  darkness,  but  shall  have 
the  light  of  life. ' 

THE  AWAKENING   OF  ZION 

'Awake,  awake,  put  on  strength,  O  arm  of  the  Lord;  awake,  as  in  the 
ancient  days,  in  the  generations  of  old.' — Isaiah  li.  9. 

'Awake,  awake;  put  on  thy  strength,  O  Zion.' — Isaiah  lii.  1. 

Both  these  verses  are,  I  think,  to  be  regarded  as  spoken 
by  one  voice,  that  of  the  Servant  of  the  Lord.  His 
majestic  figure,  wrapped  in  a  light  veil  of  obscurity, 
fills  the  eye  in  all  these  later  prophecies  of  Isaiah. 
It  is  sometimes  clothed  with  divine  power,  sometimes 
girded  with  the  towel  of  human  weakness,  sometimes 
appearing  like  the  collective  Israel,  sometimes  plainly 
a  single  person. 

We  have  no  difficulty  in  solving  the  riddle  of  the 
prophecy  by  the  light  of  history.  Our  faith  knows  One 
who  unites  these  diverse  characteristics,  being  God  and 
man,  being  the  Saviour  of  the  body,  which  is  part  of 
Himself  and  instinct  with  His  life.  If  we  may  suppose 
that  He  speaks  in  both  verses  of  the  text,  then,  in 
the  one,  as  priest  and  intercessor.  He  lifts  the  prayers 
of  earth  to  heaven  in  His  own  holy  hands — and  in  the 
other,  as  messenger  and  Word  of  God,  He  brings  the 
answer  and  command  of  heaven  to  earth  on  His  own 
authoritative  lips — thus  setting  forth  the  deep  mystery 
of  His  person  and  double  office  as  mediator   between 


52  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  li. 

man  and  God.  But  even  if  we  put  aside  that  thought, 
the  correspondence  and  relation  of  the  two  passages 
remain  the  same.  In  any  case  they  are  intentionally 
parallel  in  form  and  connected  in  substance.  The 
latter  is  the  answer  to  the  former.  The  cry  of  Zion 
is  responded  to  by  the  call  of  God.  The  awaking  of 
the  arm  of  the  Lord  is  followed  by  the  awaking  of 
the  Church.  He  puts  on  strength  in  clothing  us  with 
His  might,  which  becomes  ours. 

The  mere  juxtaposition  of  these  verses  suggests  the 
point  of  view  from  which  I  wish  to  treat  them  on  this 
occasion.  I  hope  that  the  thoughts  to  which  they  lead 
may  help  to  further  that  quickened  earnestness  and 
expectancy  of  blessing,  without  which  Christian  work 
is  a  toil  and  a  failure. 

We  have  here  a  common  principle  underlying  both 
the  clauses  of  our  text,  to  which  I  must  first  brieiiy 
ask  attention,  namely — 

I.  The  occurrence  in  the  Church's  history  of  succes- 
sive periods  of  energy  and  of  languor. 

It  is  freely  admitted  that  such  alternation  is  not  the 
highest  ideal  of  growth,  either  in  the  individual  or  in 
the  community.  Our  Lord's  own  parables  set  forth  a 
more  excellent  way — the  way  of  uninterrupted  increase, 
whereof  the  type  is  the  springing  corn,  which  puts  forth 
'  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  after  that  the  full  corn 
in  the  ear, '  and  passes  through  all  the  stages  from  the 
tender  green  spikelets  that  gleam  over  the  fields  in 
the  spring-tide  to  the  yellow  abundance  of  autumn,  in 
one  unbroken  season  of  genial  months.  So  would 
our  growth  be  best,  healthiest,  happiest.  So  might 
our  growth  be,  if  the  mysterious  life  in  the  seed  met 
no  checks.     But,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  Church  has 


V.  9]         THE  AWAKENING  OF  ZION  53 

not  thus  grown.  Eather  at  the  best,  its  emblem  is 
to  be  looked  for,  not  in  corn,  but  in  the  forest  tree — 
the  very  rings  in  whose  trunk  tell  of  recurring  sea- 
sons when  the  sap  has  risen  at  the  call  of  spring,  and 
sunk  again  before  the  frowns  of  winter,  I  have  not 
to  do  now  with  the  causes  of  this.  These  will  fall  to  be 
considered  presently.  Nor  am  I  saying  that  such  a  man- 
ner of  growth  is  inevitable.  I  am  only  pointing  out  a  fact, 
capable  of  easy  verification  and  familiar  to  us  all.  Our 
years  have  had  summer  and  winter.  The  evening  and 
the  morning  have  completed  all  the  days  since  the  first. 
We  all  know  it  only  too  well.  In  our  own  hearts 
we  have  known  such  times,  when  some  cold  clinging 
mist  wrapped  us  round  and  hid  all  the  heaven  of  God's 
love  and  the  starry  lights  of  His  truth;  when  the 
visible  was  the  only  real,  and  He  seemed  far  away 
and  shadowy;  when  there  was  neither  confidence  in 
our  belief,  nor  heat  in  our  love,  nor  enthusiasm  in 
our  service;  when  the  shackles  of  conventionalism 
bound  our  souls,  and  the  fetters  of  the  frost  im- 
prisoned all  their  springs.  And  we  have  seen  a  like 
palsy  smite  whole  regions  and  ages  of  the  Church  of 
God,  so  that  even  the  sensation  of  impotence  was  dead 
like  all  the  rest,  and  the  very  tradition  of  spiritual 
power  had  faded  away.  I  need  not  point  to  the  sig- 
nal historical  examples  of  such  times  in  the  past.  Ee- 
member  England  a  hundred  years  ago — but  what  need 
to  travel  so  far?  May  I  venture  to  draw  my  example 
from  nearer  home,  and  ask,  have  we  not  been  living  in 
such  an  epoch?  I  beseech  you,  think  whether  the  power 
which  the  Gospel  preached  by  us  wields  on  ourselves, 
on  our  churches,  on  the  world,  is  what  Christ  meant 
it  and  fitted  to  exercise.     Why,  if  we  hold  our  own  in 


54  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH         [ch.  li. 

respect  to  the  material  growth  of  our  population,  it  is 
as  much  as  we  do.  Where  is  the  joyful  buoyancy  and 
expansive  power  with  which  the  Gospel  burst  into  the 
world?  It  looks  like  some  stream  that  leaps  from  the 
hills,  and  at  first  hurries  from  cliff  to  cliff  full  of  light 
and  music,  but  flows  slower  and  more  sluggish  as  it 
advances,  and  at  last  almost  stagnates  in  its  flat 
marshes.  Here  we  are  with  all  our  machinery,  our 
culture,  money,  organisations — and  the  net  result  of 
it  all  at  the  year's  end  is  but  a  poor  handful  of  ears. 
'  Ye  sow  much  and  bring  home  little. '  Well  may  we 
take  up  the  wail  of  the  old  Psalm,  '  We  see  not  our 
signs.  There  is  no  more  any  prophet ;  neither  is  there 
any  among  us  that  knoweth  how  long — arise,  0  Lord, 
plead  Thine  own  cause. ' 

If,  then,  there  are  such  recurring  seasons  of  languor, 
they  must  either  go  on  deepening  till  sleep  becomes 
death,  or  they  must  be  broken  by  a  new  outburst  of 
vigorous  life.  It  would  be  better  if  we  did  not  need 
the  latter.  The  uninterrupted  growth  would  be  best; 
but  if  that  has  not  been  attained,  then  the  ending  of 
winter  by  spring,  and  the  suppling  of  the  dry  branches, 
and  the  resumption  of  the  arrested  growth,  is  the  next 
best,  and  the  only  alternative  to  rotting  away. 

And  it  is  by  such  times  that  the  Kingdom  of  Christ 
always  has  grown.  Its  history  has  been  one  of  suc- 
cessive impulses  gradually  exhausted,  as  by  friction 
and  gravity,  and  mercifully  repeated  just  at  the 
moment  when  it  was  ceasing  to  advance  and  had  begun 
to  slide  backwards.  And  in  such  a  manner  of  prog- 
ress, the  Church's  history  has  been  in  full  analogy 
with  that  of  all  other  forms  of  human  association  and 
activity.     It  is  not  in  religion  alone    that  there  are 


V.9]        THE  AWAKENING  OF  ZION  55 

'  revivals, '  to  use  the  word  of  which  some  people  have 
such  a  dread.  You  see  analogous  phenomena  in  the 
field  of  literature,  arts,  social  and  political  life.  In 
them  all,  there  come  times  of  awakened  interest  in 
long-neglected  principles.  Truths  which  for  many 
years  had  been  left  to  burn  unheeded,  save  by  a 
faithful  few  watchers  of  the  beacon,  flame  up  all  at 
once  as  the  guiding  pillars  of  a  nation's  march,  and  a 
whole  people  strike  their  tents  and  follow  where  they 
lead.  A  mysterious  quickening  thrills  through  society. 
A  contagion  of  enthusiasm  spreads  like  fire,  fusing  all 
hearts  in  one.  The  air  is  electric  with  change.  Some 
great  advance  is  secured  at  a  stride;  and  before  and 
after  that  supreme  effort  are  years  of  comparative  qui- 
escence; those  before  being  times  of  preparation,  those 
after  being  times  of  fruition  and  exhaustion — but  slow 
and  languid  compared  with  the  joyous  energy  of  that 
moment.  One  day  may  be  as  a  thousand  years  in  the 
history  of  a  people,  and  a  nation  may  be  born  in  a  day. 

So  also  is  the  history  of  the  Church.  And  thank  God 
it  is  so,  for  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  dawning  of  these 
times  of  refreshing,  the  steady  operation  of  the  Church's 
worldliness  would  have  killed  it  long  ago. 

Surely,  dear  brethren,  we  ought  to  desire  such  a 
merciful  interruption  of  the  sad  continuity  of  our  lan- 
guor and  decay.  The  surest  sign  of  its  coming  would 
be  a  widespread  desire  and  expectation  of  its  coming, 
joined  with  a  penitent  consciousness  of  our  heavy  and 
sinful  slumber.  For  we  believe  in  a  God  who  never 
sends  mouths  but  He  sends  meat  to  fill  them,  and  in 
whose  merciful  providence  every  desire  is  a  prophecy  of 
its  own  fruition.  This  attitude  of  quickened  anticipa- 
tion, diffusing  itself  silently  through  many  hearts,  is 


56  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH         [ch.  li. 

like  the  light  air  that  springs  up  hefore  sunrise,  or  like 
the  solemn  hush  that  holds  all  nature  listening  before 
the  voice  of  the  Lord  in  the  thunder. 

And  another  sign  of  its  approach  is  the  extremity  of 
the  need.  '  If  winter  come,  can  spring  be  far  behind?  ' 
For  He  who  is  always  with  Zion  strikes  in  with  His  help 
when  the  want  is  at  its  sorest.  His  '  right  early '  is 
often  the  latest  moment  before  destruction.  And  though 
we  are  all  apt  to  exaggerate  the  urgency  of  the  hour 
and  the  severity  of  our  conflict,  it  certainly  does  seem 
that,  whether  we  regard  the  languor  of  the  Church  or 
the  strength  of  our  adversaries,  succour  delayed  a  little 
longer  would  be  succour  too  late.  '  The  tumult  of  those 
that  rise  up  against  Thee  increaseth  continually.  It  is 
time  for  Thee  to  work. ' 

The  juxtaposition  of  these  passages  suggests  for  us — 

II.  The  twofold  explanation  of  these  variations. 

That  bold  metaphor  of  God's  sleeping  and  waking  is 
often  found  in  Scripture,  and  generally  expresses  the 
contrast  between  the  long  years  of  patient  forbearance, 
during  which  evil  things  and  evil  men  go  on  their 
rebellious  road  unchecked  but  by  Love,  and  the  dread 
moment  when  some  throne  of  iniquity,  some  Babylon 
cemented  by  blood,  is  smitten  to  the  dust.  Such  is  the 
original  application  of  the  expression  here.  But  the 
contrast  may  fairly  be  widened  beyond  that  specific 
form  of  it,  and  taken  to  express  any  apparent  varia- 
tions in  the  forth-putting  of  His  power.  The  prophet 
carefully  avoids  seeming  to  suggest  that  there  are 
changes  in  God  Himself.  It  is  not  He  but  His  arm, 
that  is  to  say.  His  active  energy,  that  is  invoked  to 
awake.  The  captive  Church  prays  that  the  dormant 
might  which  could  so  easily  shiver  her  prison-house 
would  flame  forth  into  action. 


V.9]        THE  AWAKENING  OF  ZION  57 

We  may,  then,  see  here  implied  the  cause  of  these 
alternations,  of  which  we  have  been  speaking,  on  its 
divine  side,  and  then,  in  the  corresponding  verse  ad- 
dressed to  the  Church,  the  cause  on  the  human  side. 

As  to  the  former,  it  is  true  that  God's  arm  sometimes 
slumbers,  and  is  not  clothed  with  power.  There  are,  as 
a  fact,  apparent  variations  in  the  energy  with  which  He 
works  in  the  Church  and  in  the  world.  And  they  are 
real  variations,  not  merely  apparent.  But  we  have  to 
distinguish  between  the  power,  and  what  Paul  calls 
'  the  might  of  the  power. '  The  one  is  final,  constant, 
unchangeable.  It  does  not  necessarily  follow  that  the 
other  is.  The  rate  of  operation,  so  to  speak,  and  the 
amount  of  energy  actually  brought  into  play  may  vary, 
though  the  force  remains  the  same. 

It  is  clear  from  experience  that  there  are  these  varia- 
tions; and  the  only  question  with  which  we  are  con- 
cerned is,  are  they  mere  arbitrary  jets  and  spurts  of  a 
divine  power,  sometimes  gushing  out  in  full  flood,  some- 
times trickling  in  painful  drops,  at  the  unknown  will  of 
the  unseen  hand  which  controls  the  flow?  Is  the  '  law  of 
the  Spirit  of  life  '  at  all  revealed  to  us;  or  are  the  rea- 
sons occult,  if  there  be  any  reasons  at  all  other  than  a 
mere  will  that  it  shall  be  so?  Surely,  whilst  we  never 
can  know  all  the  depths  of  His  counsels  and  all  the  sol- 
emn concourse  of  reasons  which,  to  speak  in  man's  lan- 
guage, determine  the  energy  of  His  manifested  power, 
He  has  left  us  in  no  doubt  that  this  is  the  weightiest 
part  of  the  law  which  it  follows — the  might  with  which 
God  works  on  the  world  through  His  Church  varies  ac- 
cording to  the  Church's  receptiveness  and  faithfulness. 

Our  second  text  tells  us  that  if  God's  arm  seems  to 
slumber  and  really  does  so,  it  is  because  Zion  sleeps. 
In  itself  that  immortal  energy  knows  no  variableness. 


58  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  li. 

'  He  fainteth  not,  neither  is  weary.'  '  The  Lord's  arm 
is  not  shortened  that  He  cannot  save, '  '  He  that  keep- 
eth  Israel  shall  neither  slumber  nor  sleep.'  But  He 
works  through  us;  and  we  have  the  solemn  and  awful 
power  of  checking  the  might  which  would  flow  through 
us;  of  restraining  and  limiting  the  Holy  One  of  Israel. 
It  avails  nothing  that  the  ocean  stretches  shoreless  to 
the  horizon ;  a  jar  can  hold  only  a  jarful.  The  receiver's 
capacity  determines  the  amount  received,  and  the  re- 
ceiver's desire  determines  his  capacity.  The  law  has 
ever  been,  '  according  to  your  faith  be  it  unto  you. ' 
God  gives  as  much  as  we  will,  as  much  as  we  can  hold, 
as  much  as  we  use,  and  far  more  than  we  deserve.  As 
long  as  we  will  bring  our  vessels  the  golden  oil  will  flow, 
and  after  the  last  is  filled,  there  yet  remains  more  that 
we  might  have  had,  if  we  could  have  held  it,  and  might 
have  held  if  we  would.  'Ye  are  not  straitened  in  Me, 
ye  are  straitened  in  yourselves. ' 

So,  dear  brethren,  if  we  have  to  lament  times  of 
torpor  and  small  success,  let  us  be  honest  with  ourselves, 
and  recognise  that  all  the  blame  lies  with  us.  If  God's 
arm  seems  to  slumber,  it  is  because  we  are  asleep.  His 
power  is  invariable,  and  the  Gospel  which  is  committed 
to  our  trust  has  lost  none  of  its  ancient  power,  what- 
soever men  may  say.  If  there  be  variations,  they  can- 
not be  traced  to  the  divine  element  in  the  Church,  which 
in  itself  is  constant,  but  altogether  to  the  human,  which 
shifts  and  fluctuates,  as  we  only  too  sadly  know.  The 
light  in  the  beacon-tower  is  steady,  and  the  same ;  but 
the  beam  it  throws  across  the  waters  sometimes  fades  to 
a  speck,  and  sometimes  flames  out  clear  and  far  across  the 
heaving  waves,  according  to  the  position  of  the  glasses 
and  shades  around  it.     The  sun  pours  out  heat  as  pro- 


V.  9]        THE  AWAKENING  OF  ZION  59 

fusely  and  as  long  at  midwinter  as  on  midsummer-day, 
and  all  the  difference  between  the  frost  and  darkness  and 
glowing  brightness  and  flowering  life,  is  simply  owing  to 
the  earth's  place  in  its  orbit  and  the  angle  at  which  the 
unalterable  rays  fall  upon  it.  The  changes  are  in  the 
terrestrial  sphere ;  the  heavenly  is  fixed  for  ever  the  same. 
May  I  not  venture  to  point  an  earnest  and  solemn 
appeal  with  these  truths?  Has  there  not  been  poured 
over  us  the  spirit  of  slumber?  Does  it  not  seem  as  if 
an  opium  sky  had  been  raining  soporifics  on  our  heads? 
We  have  had  but  little  experience  of  the  might  of  God 
amongst  us  of  late  years,  and  we  need  not  wonder  at  it. 
There  is  no  occasion  to  look  far  for  the  reason.  We 
have  only  to  regard  the  low  ebb  to  which  religious  life 
has  been  reduced  amongst  us  to  have  it  all  and  more 
than  all  accounted  for.  I  fully  admit  that  there  has 
been  plenty  of  activity,  perhaps  more  than  the  amount 
of  real  life  warrants,  not  a  little  liberality,  and  many 
virtues.  But  how  languid  and  torpid  the  true  Christian 
life  has  been!  how  little  enthusiasm!  how  little  depth  of 
communion  with  God!  how  little  unworldly  elevation  of 
soul!  how  little  glow  of  love!  An  improvement  in  social 
position  and  circumstances,  a  freer  blending  with  the 
national  life,  a  full  share  of  civic  and  political  honours, 
a  higher  culture  in  our  pulpits,  fine  chapels,  and  ap- 
plauding congregations — are  but  poor  substitutes  for 
what  many  of  us  have  lost  in  racing  after  them.  We 
have  the  departed  prophets'  mantle,  the  outward  re- 
semblance to  the  fathers  who  have  gone,  but  their  fiery 
zeal  has  passed  to  heaven  with  them ;  and  softer,  weaker 
men,  we  stand  timidly  on  the  river's  brink,  invoking 
the  Lord  God  of  Elijah,  and  too  often  the  flood  that 
obeyed  them  has  no  ear  for  our  feebler  voice. 


60  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  li. 

I  speak  to  many  who  are  in  some  sort  representa- 
tives of  the  churches  throughout  the  land,  and  they  can 
tell  whether  my  words  are  on  the  whole  true  or  over- 
strained. We  who  labour  in  our  great  cities,  what  say 
we?  If  one  of  the  number  may  speak  for  the  rest,  we 
have  to  acknowledge  that  commercial  prosperity  and 
business  cares,  the  eagerness  after  pleasure  and  the  ex- 
igencies of  political  strife,  diffused  doubt  and  widespread 
artistic  and  literary  culture,  are  eating  the  very  life  out 
of  thousands  in  our  churches,  and  lowering  their  fervour 
till,  like  molten  iron  cooling  in  the  air,  what  was  once 
all  glowing  with  ruddy  heat  is  crusted  over  with  foul 
black  scoriae  ever  encroaching  on  the  tiny  central 
warmth.  You  from  rural  churches,  what  say  you? 
Have  you  not  to  speak  of  deepening  torpor  settling 
down  on  quiet  corners,  of  the  passing  away  of  grey 
heads  which  leave  no  successors,  of  growing  difficulties 
and  lessened  power  to  meet  them,  that  make  you 
sometimes  all  but  despair? 

I  am  not  flinging  indiscriminate  censures.  I  know 
that  there  are  lights  as  well  as  shades  in  the  picture. 
I  am  not  flinging  censures  at  all.  But  I  am  giving 
voice  to  the  confessions  of  many  hearts,  that  our  con- 
sciousness of  our  blame  may  be  deepened,  and  we  may 
hasten  back  to  that  dear  Lord  whom  we  have  left  to 
serve  alone,  as  His  first  disciples  left  Him  once  to 
agonise  alone  under  the  gnarled  olives  in  Gethsemane, 
while  they  lay  sleeping  in  the  moonlight.  Listen  to 
His  gentle  rebuke,  full  of  pain  and  surprised  love, 
'  What,  could  ye  not  watch  with  Me  one  hour?  '  Listen 
to  His  warning  call,  loving  as  the  kiss  with  which  a 
mother  wakes  her  child,  'Arise,  let  us  be  going ' — and 
let  us  shake  the  spirit  of  slumber  from  our  limbs,  and 


V.9]        THE  AWAKENING  OF  ZION  61 

serve  Him  as  those  unsleeping  spirits  do,  who  rest  not 
day  nor  night  from  vision  and  work  and  praise. 

III.  The  beginning  of  all  awaking  is  the  Church's 
earnest  cry  to  God. 

It  is  with  us  as  with  infants,  the  first  sign  of  whose 
awaking  is  a  cry.  The  mother's  quick  ear  hears  it 
through  all  the  household  noises,  and  the  poor  little 
troubled  life  that  woke  to  a  scared  consciousness  of 
loneliness  and  darkness,  is  taken  up  into  tender  arms, 
and  comforted  and  calmed.  So,  when  we  dimly  per- 
ceive how  torpid  we  have  been,  and  start  to  find  that 
we  have  lost  our  Father's  hand,  the  first  instinct  of  that 
waking,  which  must  needs  be  partly  painful,  is  to  call 
to  Him,  whose  ear  hears  our  feeble  cry  amid  the  sound 
of  praise  like  the  voice  of  many  waters,  that  billows 
round  His  throne,  and  whose  folding  arms  keep  us  '  as 
one  whom  his  mother  comforteth.'  The  beginning  of 
all  true  awaking  must  needs  be  prayer. 

For  every  such  stirring  of  quickened  religious  life 
must  needs  have  in  it  bitter  penitence  and  pain  at  the 
discovery  flashed  upon  us  of  the  wretched  deadness  of 
our  past — and,  as  we  gaze  like  some  wakened  sleep- 
walker into  the  abyss  where  another  step  might  have 
smashed  us  to  atoms,  a  shuddering  terror  seizes  us  that 
must  cry,  '  Hold  Thou  me  up,  and  I  shall  be  safe. ' 
And  every  such  stirring  of  quickened  life  will  have  in 
it,  too,  desire  for  more  of  His  grace,  and  confidence  in 
His  sure  bestowal  of  it,  which  cannot  but  breathe  itself 
in  prayer. 

Nor  is  Zion's  cry  to  God  only  the  beginning  and  sign 
of  all  true  awaking:  it  is  also  the  condition  and  indis- 
pensable precursor  of  all  perfecting  of  recovery  from 
spiritual  languor. 


62  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH  [ch.  li. 

I  have  already  pointed  out  the  relation  between  the 
waking  of  God  and  the  waking  of  His  Church,  from 
which  that  necessarily  follows.  God's  power  flows  into 
our  weakness  in  the  measure  and  on  condition  of  our 
desires.  We  are  sometimes  told  that  we  err  in  praying 
for  the  outpouring  of  His  Holy  Spirit,  because  ever  since 
Pentecost  His  Church  has  had  the  gift.  The  objection 
alleges  an  unquestioned  fact,  but  the  conclusion  drawn 
from  it  rests  on  an  altogether  false  conception  of  the 
manner  of  that  abiding  gift.  The  Spirit  of  God,  and 
the  power  which  comes  from  Him,  are  not  given  as  a 
purse  of  money  might  be  put  into  a  man's  hand  once 
and  for  all,  but  they  are  given  in  a  continuous  imparta- 
tion  and  communication  and  are  received  and  retained 
moment  by  moment,  according  to  the  energy  of  our  de- 
sires and  the  faithfulness  of  our  use.  As  well  might  we 
say,  Why  should  I  ask  for  natural  life,  I  received  it  half 
a  century  ago?  Yes,  and  at  every  moment  of  that  half- 
century  I  have  continued  to  live,  not  because  of  a  past 
gift,  but  because  at  each  moment  God  is  breathing  into 
my  nostrils  the  breath  of  life.  So  is  it  with  the  life 
which  comes  from  His  Spirit.  It  is  maintained  by  con- 
stant efflux  from  the  fountain  of  Life,  by  constant  im- 
partation  of  His  quickening  breath.  And  as  He  must 
continually  impart,  so  must  we  continually  receive,  else 
we  perish.  Therefore,  brethren,  the  first  step  towards 
awaking,  and  the  condition  of  all  true  revival  in  our 
own  souls  and  in  our  churches,  is  this  earnest  cry, 
'Awake,  awake,  put  on  strength,  O  arm  of  the  Lord.' 

Thank  God  for  the  outpouring  of  a  long  unwonted 
spirit  of  prayer  in  many  places.  It  is  like  the  melting 
of  the  snows  in  the  high  Alps,  at  once  the  sign  of  spring 
and  the  cause  of  filling  the  stony  river  beds  with  flash- 


V.  9]        THE  AWAKENING  OF  ZION  63 

ing  waters,  that  bring  verdure  and  growth  wherever 
they  come.  The  winter  has  been  long  and  hard.  We 
have  all  to  confess  that  we  have  been  restraining  prayer 
before  God.  Our  work  has  been  done  with  but  little 
sense  of  our  need  of  His  blessing,  with  but  little  ardour 
of  desire  for  His  power.  We  have  prayed  lazily, 
scarcely  believing  that  answers  would  come ;  we  have 
not  watched  for  the  reply,  but  have  been  like  some 
heartless  marksman  who  draws  his  bow  and  does  not 
care  to  look  whether  his  arrow  strikes  the  target. 
These  mechanical  words,  these  conventional  petitions, 
these  syllables  winged  by  no  real  desire,  inspired  by  no 
faith,  these  expressions  of  devotion,  far  too  wide  for 
their  real  contents,  which  rattle  in  them  like  a  dried  j 
kernel  in  a  nut,  are  these  prayers?  Is  there  any  won-  / 
der  that  they  have  been  dispersed  in  empty  air,  and  that  | 
we  have  been  put  to  shame  before  our  enemies?  Breth- 
ren in  the  ministry,  do  we  need  to  be  surprised  at  our 
fruitless  work,  when  we  think  of  our  prayerless  studies 
and  of  our  faithless  prayers?  Let  us  remember  that 
solemn  word,  '  The  pastors  have  become  brutish,  and 
have  not  sought  the  Lord,  therefore  they  shall  not  pros- 
per, and  all  their  flecks  shall  be  scattered.'  And  let  us 
all,  brethren,  betake  ourselves,  with  penitence  and  lowly 
consciousness  of  our  sore  need,  to  prayer,  earnest  and 
importunate,  believing  and  persistent,  like  this  heaven- 
piercing  cry  which  captive  Israel  sent  up  from  her 
weary  bondage. 

Look  at  the  passionate  earnestness  of  it — expressed  in 
the  short,  sharp  cry,  thrice  repeated,  as  from  one  in         I 
mortal  need;  and  see  to  it  that  our  drowsy  prayers  be      ,  y 
like  it.     Look  at  the  grand  confidence  with  which  it 
founds  itself  on  the  past,  recounting  the  mighty  deeds 


64  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH         [ch.  li. 

of  ancient  days,  and  looking  back,  not  for  despair  but 
for  joyful  confidence,  to  the  generations  of  old ;  and  let 
our  faint-hearted  faith  be  quickened  by  the  example, 
to  expect  great  things  of  God.  The  age  of  miracles  is 
not  gone.  The  mightiest  manifestations  of  God's  power 
in  the  spread  of  the  Gospel  in  the  past  remain  as  pat- 
terns for  His  future.  We  have  not  to  look  back  as  from 
low-lying  plains  to  the  blue  peaks  on  the  horizon,  across 
which  the  Church's  path  once  lay,  and  sigh  over  the 
changed  conditions  of  the  journey.  The  highest  water- 
mark that  the  river  in  flood  has  ever  reached  will  be 
reached  and  overpassed  again,  though  to-day  the  waters 
may  seem  to  have  hopelessly  subsided.  Greater  tri- 
umphs and  deliverances  shall  crown  the  future  than 
have  signalised  the  past.  Let  our  faithful  prayer  base 
itself  on  the  prophecies  of  history  and  on  the  unchange- 
ableness  of  God. 

Think,  brethren,  of  the  prayers  of  Christ.  Even  He, 
whose  spirit  needed  not  to  be  purged  from  stains  or 
calmed  from  excitement,  who  was  ever  in  His  Father's 
house  whilst  He  was  about  His  Father's  business,  blend- 
ing in  one,  action  and  contemplation,  had  need  to  pray. 
The  moments  of  His  Hfe  thus  marked  are  very  signifi- 
cant. When  He  began  His  ministry,  the  close  of  the 
first  day  of  toil  and  wonders  saw  Him,  far  from  grati- 
tude and  from  want,  in  a  desert  place  in  prayer. 
When  He  would  send  forth  His  apostles,  that  great 
step  in  advance,  in  which  lay  the  germ  of  so  much,  was 
preceded  by  solitary  prayer.  When  the  fickle  crowd 
desired  to  make  Him  the  centre  of  political  revolution, 
He  passed  from  their  hands  and  beat  back  that  earliest 
attempt  to  secularise  His  work,  by  prayer.  When  the 
seventy  brought  the  first  tidings  of  mighty  works  done 


V.9]  THE  AWAKENING  OF  ZION  65 

in  His  name,  He  showed  us  how  to  repel  the  dangers  of 
success,  in  that  He  thanked  the  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth  who  had  revealed  these  things  to  babes.  When 
He  stood  by  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  the  voice  that  waked 
the  dead  was  preceded  by  the  voice  of  prayer,  as  it  ever 
must  be.  When  He  had  said  all  that  He  could  say  to 
His  disciples.  He  crowned  all  with  His  wonderful  prayer 
for  Himself,  for  them,  and  for  us  all.  When  the  horror 
of  great  darkness  fell  upon  His  soul,  the  growing  agony 
is  marked  by  His  more  fervent  prayer,  so  wondrously 
compact  of  shrinking  fear  and  filial  submission.  When 
the  cross  was  hid  in  the  darkness  of  eclipse,  the  only 
words  from  the  gloom  were  words  of  prayer.  When, 
Godlike,  He  dismissed  His  spirit,  manlike  He  com- 
mended it  to  His  Father,  and  sent  the  prayer  from  His 
dying  lips  before  Him  to  herald  His  coming  into  the  un- 
seen world.  One  instance  remains,  even  more  to  our 
present  purpose  than  all  these — '  It  came  to  pass,  that 
Jesus  also  being  baptized,  and  praying,  the  heaven  was 
opened,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  descended  in  a  bodily  shape 
like  a  dove  upon  Him. '  Mighty  mystery!  In  Him,  too, 
the  Son's  desire  is  connected  with  the  Father's  gift,  and 
the  unmeasured  possession  of  the  Spirit  was  an  answer 
to  His  prayer. 

Then,  brethren,  let  us  lift  our  voices  and  our  hearts. 
That  which  ascends  as  prayer  descends  as  blessing,  like 
the  vapour  that  is  drawn  up  by  the  kiss  of  the  sun  to 
fall  in  freshening  rain.  'Call  upon  Me,  and  I  will  an-  <-/ 7 
swer  thee,  and  show  thee  great  and  hidden  things 
which  thou  knowest  not. ' 

IV.  The  answering  call  from  God  to  Zion. 

Our  truest  prayers  are  but  the  echo  of  God's  promises. 
God's  best  answers  are  the  echo  of  our  prayers.     As  in 

VOL.  II.  E 


F^ 


66  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH         [ch.  li. 

two  mirrors  set  opposite  to  each  other,  the  same  image 
is  repeated  over  and  over  again,  the  reflection  of  a  re- 
flection, so  here,  within  the  prayer,  gleams  an  earlier 
promise,  within  the  answer  is  mirrored  the  prayer. 

And  in  that  reverberation,  and  giving  back  to  us  our 
petition  transformed  into  a  command,  we  are  not  to  see 
a  dismissal  of  it  as  if  we  had  misapprehended  our  true 
want.  It  is  not  tantamount  to,  Do  not  ask  me  to  put 
on  my  strength,  but  array  yourselves  in  your  own.  The 
very  opposite  interpretation  is  the  true  one.  The 
prayer  of  Zion  is  heard  and  answered.  God  awakes, 
and  clothes  Himself  with  might.  Then,  as  some  war- 
rior king,  himself  roused  from  sleep  and  girded  with 
flashing  steel,  bids  the  clarion  sound  through  the  grey 
twilight  to  summon  the  prostrate  ranks  that  lie  round 
his  tent,  so  the  sign  of  God's  awaking  and  the  first  act 
of  His  conquering  might  is  this  trumpet  call — '  The 
night  is  far  spent,  the  day  is  at  hand,  let  us  put  off  the 
works  of  darkness,' — the  night  gear  that  was  fit  for 
slumber — '  and  put  on  the  armour  of  light, '  the  mail 
of  purity  that  gleams  and  glitters  even  in  the  dim 
dawn.  God's  awaking  is  our  awaking.  He  puts  on 
strength  by  making  us  strong;  for  His  arm  works 
through  us,  clothing  itself,  as  it  were,  with  our  arm  of 
flesh,  and  perfecting  itself  even  in  our  weakness. 

Nor  is  it  to  be  forgotten  that  this,  like  all  God's  com- 
mands, carries  in  its  heart  a  promise.  That  earliest 
word  of  God's  is  the  type  of  all  His  latter  behests:  '  Let 
there  be  light, '  and  the  mighty  syllables  were  creative 
and  self-fulfilling.  So  ever,  with  Him,  to  enjoin  and 
to  bestow  are  one  and  the  same,  and  His  command  is 
His  conveyance  of  power.  He  rouses  us  by  His  sum- 
mons, He  clothes  us  with  power  in  the  very  act  of  bid- 


V.  9]        THE  AWAKENING  OF  ZION  67 

ding  us  put  it  on.  So  He  answers  the  Church's  cry  by- 
stimulating  us  to  quickened  zeal,  and  making  us  more 
conscious  of,  and  confident  in,  the  strength  which,  in 
answer  to  our  cry,  He  pours  into  our  limbs. 

But  the  main  point  which  I  would  insist  on  in  what 
remains  of  this  sermon,  is  the  practical  discipline  which 
this  divine  summons  requires  from  us. 

And  first,  let  us  remember  that  the  chief  means  of 
quickened  life  and  strength  is  deepened  communion 
with  Christ. 

As  we  have  been  saying,  our  strength  is  ours  by  con- 
tinual derivation  from  Him.  It  has  no  independent 
existence,  any  more  than  a  sunbeam  could  have,  severed 
from  the  sun.  It  is  ours  only  in  the  sense  that  it  flows 
through  us,  as  a  river  through  the  land  which  it  en- 
riches. It  is  His  whilst  it  is  ours,  it  is  ours  when  we 
know  it  to  be  His.  Then,  clearly,  the  first  thing  to  do 
must  be  to  keep  the  channels  free  by  which  it  flows 
into  our  souls,  and  to  maintain  the  connection  with  the 
great  Fountainhead  unimpaired.  Put  a  dam  across  the 
stream,  and  the  effect  will  be  like  the  drying  up  of  Jor- 
dan before  Israel :  '  the  waters  that  were  above  rose  up 
upon  an  heap,  and  the  waters  that  were  beneath  failed 
and  were  cut  off, '  and  the  foul  oozy  bed  was  disclosed 
to  the  light  of  day.  It  is  only  by  constant  contact  with 
Christ  that  we  have  any  strength  to  put  on. 

That  communion  with  Him  is  no  mere  idle  or  passive 
attitude,  but  the  active  employment  of  our  whole  na- 
ture with  His  truth,  and  with  Him  whom  the  truth  re- 
veals. The  understanding  must  be  brought  into  con- 
tact with  the  principles  of  His  word,  the  heart  must 
touch  and  beat  against  His  heart,  the  will  meekly  lay 
its  hand  in  His,  the  conscience  draw  at  once  its  anodyne 


68  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH         [ch.  li. 

and  its  stimulus  from  His  sacrifice,  the  passions  know 
His  finger  on  the  reins,  and  follow,  led  in  the  silken 
leash  of  love.  Then,  if  I  may  so  say,  Elisha's  miracle 
will  be  repeated  in  nobler  form,  and  from  Himself,  the 
Life  thus  touching  all  our  being,  life  will  flow  into  our 
deadness.  '  He  put  his  mouth  upon  his  mouth,  and 
his  eyes  upon  his  eyes,  and  his  hands  upon  his  hands, 
and  he  stretched  himself  upon  the  child,  and  the  flesh 
of  the  child  waxed  warm.'  So,  dear  brethren,  all  our 
practical  duty  is  summed  up  in  that  one  word,  the  meas- 
ure of  our  obedience  to  which  is  the  measure  of  all  our 
strength — '  Abide  in  Me,  and  I  in  you.  As  the  branch 
cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself,  except  it  abide  in  the  vine,  no 
more  can  ye,  except  ye  abide  in  Me. ' 

Again,  this  summons  calls  us  to  the  faithful  use  of  the 
power  which,  on  condition  of  that  communion,  we  have. 

There  is  no  doubt  a  temptation,  in  all  times  like  the 
present,  to  look  for  some  new  and  extraordinary  forms 
of  blessing,  and  to  substitute  such  expectation  for  pres- 
ent work  with  our  present  strength.  There  is  nothing 
new  to  look  for.  There  is  no  need  to  wait  for  anything 
more  than  we  possess.  Remember  the  homely  old  prov- 
erb, '  You  never  know  what  you  can  do  till  you  try, ' 
and  though  we  are  conscious  of  much  unfitness,  and 
would  sometimes  gladly  wait  till  our  limbs  are  stronger, 
let  us  brace  ourselves  for  the  work,  assured  that  in  it 
strength  will  be  given  to  us  that  equals  our  desire. 
There  is  a  wonderful  power  in  honest  work  to  develop 
latent  energies  and  reveal  a  man  to  himself.  I  suppose, 
in  most  cases,  no  one  is  half  so  much  surprised  at  a 
great  man's  greatest  deeds  as  he  is  himself.  They  say 
that  there  is  dormant  electric  energy  enough  in  a  few 
raindrops  to  make  a   thunderstorm,  and  there  is  dor- 


V.9]        THE  AWAKENING  OF  ZION  69 

mant  spiritual  force  enough  in  the  weakest  of  us  to 
flash  into  beneficent  light,  and  peal  notes  of  awaking 
into  many  a  deaf  ear.  The  effort  to  serve  your  Lord 
will  reveal  to  you  strength  that  you  know  not.  And  it 
will  increase  the  strength  which  it  brings  into  play,  as 
the  used  muscles  grow  like  whipcord,  and  the  practised 
fingers  become  deft  at  their  task,  and  every  faculty  em- 
ployed is  increased,  and  every  gift  wrapped  in  a  napkin 
melts  like  ice  folded  in  a  cloth,  according  to  that  solemn 
law,  '  To  him  that  hath  shall  be  given,  and  from  him  that 
hath  not  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which  he  hath. ' 

Then  be  sure  that  to  its  last  particle  you  fjre  using  the 
strength  you  have,  ere  you  complain  of  not  having 
enough  for  your  tasks.  Take  heed  of  the  vagrant  ex- 
pectations that  wait  for  they  know  not  what,  and  the 
apparent  prayers  that  are  really  substitutes  for  possible 
service.  'Why  liest  thou  on  thy  face?  Speak  unto  the 
children  of  Israel  that  they  go  forward.' 

The  Church's  resources  are  sufficient  for  the  Church's 
work,  if  the  resources  are  used.  We  are  tempted  to 
doubt  it,  by  reason  of  our  experience  of  failure  and  our 
consciousness  of  weakness.  We  are  more  than  ever 
tempted  to  doubt  it  to-day,  when  so  many  wise  men  are 
telling  us  that  our  Christ  is  a  phantom,  our  God  a 
stream  of  tendency,  our  Gospel  a  decaying  error,  our 
hope  for  the  world  a  dream,  and  our  work  in  the  world 
done.  We  stand  before  our  Master  with  doubtful 
hearts,  and,  as  we  look  along  the  ranks  sitting  there  on 
the  green  grass,  and  then  at  the  poor  provisions  which 
make  all  our  store,  we  are  sometimes  tempted  almost  to 
think  that  He  errs  when  He  says  with  that  strange 
calmness  of  His,  '  They  need  not  depart,  give  ye  them 
to  eat. '     But  go  out  among  the  crowds  and  give  confi- 


70  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH         [ch.  li. 

dently  what  you  have,  and  you  will  find  that  you  have 
enough  and  to  spare.  If  ever  our  stores  seem  inade- 
quate, it  is  because  they  are  reckoned  up  by  sense,  which 
takes  cognizance  of  the  visible,  instead  of  by  faith  which 
beholds  the  real.  Certainly  five  loaves  and  two  small 
fishes  are  not  enough,  but  are  not  five  loaves  and  two 
small  fishes  and  a  miracle-working  hand  behind  them, 
enough?  It  is  poor  calculation  that  leaves  out  Christ 
from  the  estimate  of  our  forces.  The  weakest  man  and 
Jesus  to  back  him  are  more  than  all  antagonism,  more 
than  sufficient  for  all  duty.  Be  not  seduced  into  doubt 
of  your  power,  or  of  your  success,  by  others'  sneers,  or 
by  your  own  faint-heartedness.  The  confidence  of  abil- 
ity is  ability.  '  Screw  your  courage  to  the  sticking 
place, '  and  you  will  not  fail — and  see  to  it  that  you  use 
the  resources  you  have,  as  good  stewards  of  the  mani- 
fold grace  of  God.     '  Put  on  thy  strength,  0  Zion.' 

So,  dear  brethren,  to  gather  all  up  in  a  sentence,  let 
us  confidently  look  for  times  of  blessing,  penitently 
acknowledge  that  our  own  faithlessness  has  hindered 
the  arm  of  the  Lord,  earnestly  beseech  Him  to  come  in 
His  rejoicing  strength,  and,  drawing  ever  fresh  power 
from  constant  communion  with  our  dear  Lord,  use  it  to 
its  last  drop  for  Him.  Then,  like  the  mortal  leader  of 
Israel,  as  he  pondered  doubtingly  with  sunken  eyes  on 
the  hard  task  before  his  untrained  host,  we  shall  look 
up  and  be  aware  of  the  presence  of  the  sworded  angel, 
the  immortal  Captain  of  the  host  of  the  Lord,  standing 
ready  to  save,  '  putting  on  righteousness  as  a  breast- 
plate, an  helmet  of  salvation  on  His  head,  and  clad  with 
zeal  as  a  cloak. '  From  His  lips,  which  give  what  they 
command,  comes  the  call,  '  Take  unto  you  the  whole 
armour  of  God,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  withstand  in  the 


V.9]  SELLING  AND  BUYING  71        i 

evil  day,  and  having  done  all,  to  stand.'  Hearkening 
to  His  voice,  the  city  of  the  strong  ones  shall  be  made 
an  heap  before  our  wondering  ranks,  and  the  land  shall 
lie  open  to  our  conquering  march. 

Wheresoever  we  lift  up  the  cry,  'Awake,  awake,  put 
on  strength,  O  arm  of  the  Lord, '  there  follows,  swift  as 
the  thunderclap  on  the  lightning  flash,  the  rousing  sum- 
mons,  'Awake,   awake,   put  on  thy  strength,  O  Zion; 
put  on  thy  beautiful  garments,  O  Jerusalem ! '     Where- 
soever it  is  obeyed  there  will  follow  in  due  time  the  joy- 
ful chorus,  as  in  this  context,  '  Sing  together,  ye  waste   ._  ^ 
places  of  Jerusalem ;  the  Lord  hath  made  bare  His  holy    )  ( 
arm  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  nations,  and  all  the  ends  of  j  / 
the  earth  have  seen  the  salvation  of  our  God.' 

A  PARADOX  OF  SELLING  AND   BUYING 

'Ye  have  sold  yourselves  for  nought;  and  ye  shall  be  redeemed  without 
money.' — Isaiah  lii.  3. 

The  first  reference  of  these  words  is  of  course  to  the 
Captivity.  They  come  in  the  midst  of  a  grand  prophecy 
of  freedom,  all  full  of  leaping  gladness  and  buoyant 
hope.  The  Seer  speaks  to  the  captives ;  they  had  '  sold 
themselves  for  nought.'  What  had  they  gained  by 
their  departure  from  God? — bondage.  What  had  they 
won  in  exchange  for  their  freedom? — only  the  hard 
service  of  Babylon.  As  Deuteronomy  puts  it :  'Because 
thou  servedst  not  the  Lord  thy  God  with  joyf  ulness  .  .  . 
by  reason  of  the  abundance  of  all  things,  therefore  shalt 
thou  serve  thine  enemies  ...  in  want  of  all  things.' 
A  wise  exchange!  a  good  market  they  had  brought  their 
goods  to!  In  striking  ironical  parallel  the  prophet  goes 
on  to  say  that  so  should  they  be  redeemed.  They  had  got 
nothing  by  bondage,  they  should  give  nothing  for  liberty. 


72  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lii. 

This  text  has  its  highest  apphcation  in  regard  to  our 
captivity  and  our  redemption. 

I.  The  reality  of  the  captivity. 

The  true  idea  of  bondage  is  that  of  coercion  of  will 
and  conscience,  the  dominance  and  tyranny  of  what  has 
no  right  to  rule.  So  men  are  really  in  bondage  when 
they  think  themselves  most  free.  The  only  real  slavery 
is  that  in  which  we  are  tied  and  bound  by  our  own  pas- 
sions and  lusts.  '  He  that  committeth  sin  is  the  slave 
of  sin. '  He  thinks  himself  master  of  himself  and  his 
actions,  and  boasts  that  he  has  broken  away  from  the 
restraints  of  obedience,  but  really  he  has  only  exchanged 
masters.  What  a  Master  to  reject — and  what  a  master 
to  prefer! 

II.  The  voluntariness  of  the  captivity. 

'Ye  have  sold  yourselves,''  and  become  authors  of  your 
own  bondage.  No  sin  is  forced  upon  any  man,  and  no 
one  is  to  blame  for  it  but  himself.  The  many  excuses 
which  people  make  to  themselves  are  hollow.  Now-a- 
days  we  hear  a  great  deal  of  heredity,  how  a  man  is 
what  his  ancestors  have  made  him,  and  of  organisation, 
how  a  man  is  what  his  body  makes  him,  and  of  environ- 
ment, how  a  man  is  what  his  surroundings  make  him. 
There  is  much  truth  in  all  that,  and  men's  guilt  is  much 
diminished  by  circumstances,  training,  and  tempera- 
ment. The  amount  of  responsibility  is  not  for  us  to  set- 
tle, in  regard  to  others,  or  even  in  regard  to  ourselves. 
But  all  that  does  not  touch  the  fact  that  we  ourselves 
have  sold  ourselves.  No  false  brethren  have  sold  us  as 
they  did  Joseph. 

The  strong  tendency  of  human  nature  is  always  to 
throw  the  blame  on  some  one  else ;  God  or  the  devil,  the 
flesh  or  the  world,  it  does  not  matter  which.     But  it  re- 


V.  3]  SELLING  AND  BUYING  73 

mains  true  that  every  man  sinning  is  '  drawn  away  of 
his  own  lust  and  enticed. ' 

After  all,  conscience  witnesses  to  the  truth,  and  by 
that  mysterious  sense  of  guilt  and  gnawing  of  remorse 
which  is  quite  different  from  the  sense  of  mistake,  tears 
to  tatters  the  sophistries.  Nothing  is  more  truly  my 
own  than  my  sin. 

III.  The  profitlessness  of  the  captivity. 

*  For  nought ' ;  that  is  a  picturesque  way  of  putting 
the  truth  that  all  sinful  life  fails  to  satisfy  a  man.  The 
meaning  of  one  of  the  Hebrew  words  for  sin  is  '  missing 
the  mark. '  It  is  a  blunder  as  well  as  a  crime.  It  is 
trying  to  draw  water  from  broken  cisterns.  It  is  '  as 
when  a  hungry  man  dreameth  and  behold  he  eateth,  but 
he  awaketh  and  his  soul  is  empty. '  Sin  buys  men  with 
fairy  money,  which  looks  like  gold,  but  in  the  morning 
is  found  to  be  but  a  handful  of  yellow  and  faded  leaves. 
'  Why  do  ye  spend  your  money  for  that  which  is  not 
bread  ?  '  It  cannot  but  be  so,  for  only  God  can  satisfy 
a  man,  and  only  in  doing  His  will  are  we  sure  of  sowing 
seed  which  will  yield  us  bread  enough  and  to  spare,  and 
nothing  but  bread.  In  all  other  harvests,  tares  mingle 
and  they  yield  poisoned  flour.  We  never  get  what  we 
aim  at  when  we  do  wrong,  for  what  we  aim  at  is  not 
the  mere  physical  or  other  satisfaction  which  the  tempta- 
tion offers  us,  but  rest  of  soul — and  that  we  do  not  get. 
And  we  are  sure  to  get  something  that  we  did  not  aim 
at  or  look  for — a  wounded  conscience,  a  worsened  na- 
ture, often  hurts  to  health  or  reputation,  and  other  con- 
sequent ills,  that  were  carefully  kept  out  of  sight,  while 
we  were  being  seduced  by  the  siren  voice.  The  old  story 
of  the  traitress,  who  bargained  to  let  the  enemies  into 
the  city,  if  they  would  give  her  '  what  they  wore  on 


74  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lii. 

their  left  arms, '  meaning  bracelets,  and  was  crushed  to 
death  under  their  shields  heaped  on  her,  is  repeated  in 
the  experience  of  every  man  who  listens  to  the  '  jug- 
gling fiends,  who  keep  the  word  of  promise  to  the  ear, 
but  break  it  to  the  hope. '  The  truth  of  this  is  attested 
by  a  cloud  of  witnesses.  Conscience  and  experience  an- 
swer the  question,  '  What  fruit  had  ye  then  in  those 
things  whereof  ye  are  now  ashamed?'  Wasted  lives 
answer ;  tyrannous  evil  habits  answer ;  diseased  bodies, 
blighted  reputations,  bitter  memories  answer. 

IV.  The  unbought  freedom. 

'  Ye  shall  be  redeemed  without  money. '  You  gained 
nothing  by  your  bondage;  you  need  give  nothing  for 
your  emancipation.  The  original  reference  is,  of  course, 
to  the  great  act  of  divine  power  which  set  these  literal 
captives  free,  not  for  price  nor  reward.  As  in  the  Ex- 
odus from  Egypt,  so  in  that  from  Babylon,  no  ransom 
was  paid,  but  a  nation  of  bondsmen  was  set  at  liberty 
without  war  or  compensation.  That  was  a  strange  thing 
in  history.  The  paradox  of  buying  back  without  buying 
is  a  symbol  of  the  Christian  redemption. 

(1)  A  price  has  been  paid. 

*  Ye  were  redeemed  not  with  corruptible  things  as  sil- 
ver and  gold,  but  with  the  precious  blood  of  Christ. '  The 
New  Testament  idea  of  redemption,  no  doubt,  has  its  roots 
in  the  Old  Testament  provisions  for  the  Goel  or  kinsman 
redeemer,  who  was  to  procure  the  freedom  of  a  kinsman. 
But  whatever  figurative  elements  may  enter  into  it,  its 
core  is  the  ethical  truth  that  Christ's  death  is  the  means 
by  which  the  bonds  of  sin  are  broken.  There  is  much  in 
the  many-sided  applications  and  pcwers  of  that  Death 
which  we  do  not  know,  but  this  is  clear,  that  by  it  the 
power  of  sin  is  destroyed  and  the  guilt  of  sin  taken  away. 


V.  3]  CLEAN  CARRIERS  75 

(2)  That  price  has  been  paid  for  all. 

We  have  therefore  nothing  to  pay.  A  slave  cannot 
redeem  himself,  for  all  that  he  has  is  his  master's 
already.  So,  no  efforts  of  ours  can  set  ourselves  free 
from  the  '  cords  of  our  sins. '  Men  try  to  bring  some- 
thing of  their  own.  'I  do  my  best  and  God  will  have 
mercy. '  We  will  bring  our  own  penitence,  efforts,  good 
works,  or  rely  on  Church  ordinances,  or  anything  rather 
than  sue  in  forma  pauperis.  How  hard  it  is  to  get 
men  to  see  that  'It  is  finished,'  and  to  come  and  rest 
only  on  the  mere  mercy  of  God. 

How  do  we  ally  ourselves  with  that  completed  work? 
By  simple  faith,  of  which  an  essential  is  the  recognition 
that  we  have  nothing  and  can  do  nothing. 

Suppose  an  Israelite  in  Babylon  who  did  not  choose  to 
avail  himself  of  the  offered  freedom;  he  must  die  in 
bondage.  So  must  we  if  we  refuse  to  have  eternal  life 
as  the  gift  of  God.  The  prophet's  paradoxical  invita- 
tion, '  He  that  hath  no  money,  come  ye,  buy  .  .  .  with- 
out money,'  is  easily  solved.  The  price  is  to  give  up 
ourselves  and  forsake  all  self-willed  striving  after  self- 
purchased  freedom  which  is  but  subtler  bondage.  '  If 
the  Son  make  you  free,  ye  shall  be  free  indeed.'  If  not, 
then  are  ye  slaves  indeed,  having  '  sold  yourselves  for 
nought, '  and  declined  to  be  '  redeemed  without  money. ' 

CLEAN   CAERIERS 

'Be  ye  clean,  that  bear  the  vessels  of  the  Lord.' — Isaiah  lii.  11. 

The  context  points  to  a  great  deliverance.  It  is  a  good 
example  of  the  prophetical  habit  of  casting  prophecies  of 
the  future  into  the  mould  of  the  past.  The  features  of 
the  Exodus  are  repeated,  but  some  of  them  are  set  aside. 
This  deliverance,  whatever  it  be,  is  to  be  after  the  pat- 


76  THE  BOOX  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  lii. 

tern  of  that  old  story,  but  with  very  significant  differ- 
ences.    Then,  the  departing  Israelites  had  spoiled  the 
Egyptians  and   come  out,   laden  with  silver  and   gold 
which  had  been  poured  into  their  hands ;  now  there  is  to  be 
no  bringing  out  of  anything  which  was  tainted  with  the 
foulness  of  the  land  of  captivity.     Then  the  priests  had 
borne  the  sacred  vessels  for  sacrifice,  now  they  are  to  ex- 
ercise the  same  holy  function,  and  for  its  discharge  purity 
is  demanded.     Then,  they  had  gone  out  in  haste;  now, 
there  is  to  be  no  precipitate  flight,  but  calmly,  as  those 
who  are  guided  by  God  for  their  leader,  and  shielded 
from  all  pursuit  by  God  as  their  rearward,  the  men  of  this 
new  Exodus  are  to  take  their  march  from  the  new  Egypt. 
No  doubt  the  nearest  fulfilment  is  to  be  found  in  the 
Eeturn  from  Babylon,  and  the  narrative  in  Ezra  may  be 
taken  as  a  remarkable  parallel  to  the  prophecy  here. 
But  the  restriction  to  Babylon  must  seem  impossible  to 
any  reader  who  interprets  aright  the  significance  of  the 
context,  and  observes  that  our  text  follows  the  grand 
words  of  verse  10,  and  precedes  the  Messianic  prophecy 
of  verse  13  and  of  ch.  liii.     To  such  a  reader  the  princi- 
ple will  not  be  doubtful  according  to  which  Egypt  and 
Babylon  are   transparencies    through  which    mightier 
forms  shine,    and   a  more  wonderful  and   world-wide 
making  bare  of  the  arm  of  the  Lord  is  seen.     Christ's 
great  redemption  is  the  highest  interpretation  of  these 
words ;  and  the  trumpet-call  of  our  text  is  addressed  to 
all  who  have  become  partakers  ef  it. 

So  Paul  quotes  the  text  in  2  Cor.  vi.  lY,  blending 
with  it  other  words  which  are  gathered  from  more  than 
one  passage  of  Scripture.  We  may  then  take  the  whole 
as  giving  the  laws  of  the  new  Exodus,  and  also  as  shad- 
owing certain  great  peculiarities  connected  with  it,  by 
which  it  surpasses  all  the  former  deliverances. 


V.  11]  CLEAN  CARRIERS  77 

I.  The  Pilgrims  of  this  new  Exodus. 

A  true  Christian  is  a  pilgrim,  not  only  because  he,  like 
all  men,  is  passing  through  a  life  which  is  transient, 
but  because  he  is  consciously  detached  from  the  Visible 
and  Present,  as  a  consequence  of  his  conscious  attach- 
ment to  the  Unseen  and  Eternal.  What  is  said  in  He- 
brews of  Abraham  is  true  of  all  inheritors  of  his  faith : 
'  dwelling  in  tabernacles,  for  he  looked  for  the  city. ' 

II.  The  priests. 

Priests  and  Levites  bore  the  sacred  vessels.  All 
Christians  are  priests.  The  only  true  priesthood  is 
Christ's,  ours  is  derived  from  Him.  In  that  universal 
priesthood  of  believers  are  included  the  privileges  and 
obligations  of 

a.  Access  to  God — Communion. 

h.  Offering  spiritual  sacrifices.  Service  and  self-sur- 
render. 

c.  Mediation  with  men. 
Proclamation.     Intercession.  Thus  follows 

d.  Bearing  the  holy  vessels.  A  sacred  deposit  is  en- 
trusted to  them — the  honour  and  name  of  God;  the 
treasure  of  the  Gospel. 

III.  The  separation  that  becomes  pilgrims. 

*  Come  out  and  be  ye  separate. '  The  very  meaning 
of  our  Christian  profession  is  separation.  There  is  ludi- 
crous inconsistency  in  saying  that  we  are  Christians  and 
not  being  pilgrims.  Of  course,  the  separation  is  not  to 
be  worked  out  by  mere  external  asceticism  or  with- 
drawal from  the  world.  That  has  been  so  thoroughly 
preached  and  practised  of  late  years  that  we  much  need 
the  other  side  to  be  put.  There  should  be  some  plain 
difference  between  the  life  of  Christians  and  that  of  men 
whose  portion  is  in  this  hfe.  They  should  differ  in  the 
aspect  under  which  all   outward   thinpj-s  are  regarded. 


78  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lii. 

To  a  Christian  they  are  to  be  means  to  an  end,  and  ever 
to  be  felt  to  be  evanescent.  They  should  differ  in  the 
motive  for  action,  which  should,  for  a  Christian,  ever  be 
the  love  of  God.  They  should  differ  in  that  a  Christian 
abstains  from  much  which  non-Christians  feel  free  to  do, 
and  often  has  to  say,  '  So  did  not  I,  because  of  the  fear 
of  the  Lord. '  He  who  marches  light  marches  quickly 
and  marches  far ;  to  bring  the  treasures  of  Egypt  along 
with  us,  is  apt  to  retard  our  steps. 

IV.  The  purity  that  becomes  priests. 

The  Levites  would  cleanse  themselves  before  taking 
up  the  holy  vessels.  And  for  us,  clean  hands  and  a  pure 
heart  are  essential.  There  is  no  communion  with  God 
without  these ;  a  small  speck  of  dust  in  the  eye  blinds 
us.  There  is  no  sacrificial  service  without  them.  No 
efficient  work  among  men  can  be  done  without  them. 
One  main  cause  of  the  weakness  of  our  Christian  testi- 
mony is  the  imperfection  of  character  in  the  witnesses, 
which  is  more  powerful  than  all  talk  and  often  neutral- 
ises much  effort.     Keen  eyes  are  watching  us. 

The  consciousness  of  our  own  impurity  should  send  us 
to  Jesus,  with  the  prayer  and  the  confidence,  '  Cleanse 
me  and  I  shall  be  clean. '  '  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ 
cleanseth  from  all  sin. '  '  He  hath  loosed  us  from  our 
sins  and  made  us  kings  and  priests  to  God.' 

MAECHING  ORDERS 

'Depart  ye,  depart  ye,  go  ye  out  from  thence,  touch  no  unclean  thing; 
go  ye  out  of  the  midst  of  her;  be  ye  clean,  that  bear  the  vessels  of  the  Lord. 
12.  For  ye  shall  not  go  out  with  haste,  nor  go  by  flight:  for  the  Lord  will 
go  before  you,  and  the  God  of  Israel  will  be  your  rereward.' — Isaiah  lii. 
11,  12. 

These  ringing  notes  are  parts  of  a  highly  poetic  picture 
of  that  great  deliverance  which  inspired  this  prophet's 
most  exalted  strains.     It  is  described  with  constant  allu- 


vs.  11, 12]        MARCHING  ORDERS  79 

sion  to  the  first  Exodus,  but  also  with  significant  differ- 
ences. Now  no  doubt  the  actual  historical  return  of  the 
Jews  from  the  Babylonish  captivity  is  the  object  that  fills 
the  foreground  of  this  vision,  but  it  by  no  means  exhausts 
its  significance.  The  restriction  of  the  prophecy  to  that 
more  immediate  fulfilment  may  well  seem  impossible 
when  we  note  that  my  text  follows  the  grand  promise 
that  '  all  the  ends  of  the  earth  shall  see  the  salvation  of 
our  God,'  and  immediately  precedes  the  Messianic  proph- 
ecy of  the  fifty-third  chapter.  Egypt  was  transparent, 
and  through  it  shone  Babylon ;  Babylon  was  transparent, 
and  through  it  shone  Christ's  redemption.  That  was 
the  real  and  highest  fulfilment  of  the  prophet's  anticipa- 
tions, and  the  trumpet-calls  of  my  text  are  addressed  to 
all  who  have  a  share  in  it.  We  have,  then,  here,  under 
highly  metaphorical  forms,  the  grand  ideal  of  the  Chris- 
tian life ;  and  I  desire  to  note  briefly  its  various  features. 

I.  First,  then,  we  have  it  set  forth  as  a  march  of  war- 
rior priests.  ' 

Note  that  phrase — '  Ye  that  bear  the  vessels  of  the 
Lord. '  The  returning  exiles  as  a  whole  are  so  addressed, 
but  the  significance  of  the  expression,  and  the  precise 
metaphor  which  it  is  meant  to  convey,  may  be  question- 
able. The  word  rendered  'vessel '  is  a  wide  expression, 
meaning  any  kind  of  equipment,  and  in  other  places  of 
the  Old  Testament  the  whole  phrase  rendered  here,  '  ye 
that  bear  the  vessels, '  is  translated  '  armour-bearers. ' 
Such  an  image  would  be  quite  congruous  with  the  con- 
text here,  in  which  warlike  figures  abound.  And  if  so, 
the  picture  would  be  that  of  an  army  on  the  march,  each 
man  carrying  some  of  the  weapons  of  the  great  Captain 
and  Leader.  But  perhaps  the  other  explanation  is  more 
likely,  which  regards  '  the  vessels  of  the  Lord  '  as  being 


80  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lii. 

an  allusion  to  the  sacrificial  and  other  implements  of 
worship,  which,  in  the  first  Exodus,  the  Levites  carried 
on  the  march.  And  if  that  be  the  meaning,  as  seems 
more  congruous  with  the  command  of  purity  which  is 
deduced  from  the  function  of  bearing  the  vessels,  then 
the  figure  here,  of  course,  is  that  of  a  company  of 
priests.  I  venture  to  throw  the  two  ideas  together,  and 
to  say  that  we  may  here  find  an  ideal  of  the  Christian 
community  as  being  a  great  company  of  warrior-priests 
on  the  march,  guarding  a  sacred  deposit  which  has  been 
committed  to  their  charge. 

Look,  then,  at  that  combination  in  the  true  Christian 
character  of  the  two  apparently  opposite  ideas  of  war- 
rior and  priest.  It  suggests  that  all  the  life  is  to  be  con- 
fiict,  and  that  all  the  conflict  is  to  be  worship;  that 
everywhere,  in  the  thick  of  the  fight,  we  may  still  bear 
the  remembrance  of  the  '  secret  place  of  the  most  High.' 
It  suggests,  too,  that  the  warfare  is  worship,  that  the 
offices  of  the  priest  and  of  the  warrior  are  one  and  the 
same  thing,  and  both  consist  in  their  mediating  between 
man  and  God,  bringing  God  in  His  Gospel  to  men,  and 
bringing  men  through  their  faith  to  God.  The  com- 
bination suggests,  likewise,  how,  in  the  true  Christian 
character,  there  ought  ever  to  be  blended,  in  strange 
harmony,  the  virtues  of  the  soldier  and  the  qualities  of 
the  priest ;  compassion  for  the  ignorant  and  them  that 
are  out  of  the  way,  with  courage;  meekness  with 
strength ;  a  quiet,  placable  heart  hating  strife,  joined  to 
a  spirit  that  cheerily  fronts  every  danger  and  is  eager 
for  the  conflict  in  which  evil  is  the  foe  and  God  the 
helper.  The  old  Crusaders  went  to  battle  with  the  Cross 
on  their  hearts,  and  on  their  shoulders,  and  on  the  hilts 
of  their  swords ;  and  we,  too,  in  all  our  warfare,  have  to 


vs.  11, 12]         MARCHING  ORDERS  81 

remember  that  its  weapons  are  not  carnal  but  spiritual, 
and  that  only  then  do  we  fight  as  the  Captain  of  our  sal- 
vation fought,  when  our  arms  are  meekness  and  pity, 
and  our  warfare  is  waged  in  gentleness  and  love. 

Note,  further,  that  in  this  phrase  we  have  the  old,  old 
metaphor  of  life  as  a  march,  but  so  modified  as  to  lose 
all  its  melancholy  and  weariness  and  to  become  an  ele- 
vating hope.  The  idea  which  runs  through  all  poetry, 
of  life  as  a  journey,  suggests  effort,  monotonous  change, 
a  uniform  law  of  variety  and  transiency,  struggle  and 
weariness,  but  the  Christian  thought  of  life,  while  pre- 
serving the  idea  of  change,  modifies  it  into  the  blessed 
thought  of  progress.  Life,  if  it  is  as  Christ  meant  it  to 
be,  is  a  journey  in  the  sense  that  it  is  a  continuous  effort, 
not  unsuccessful,  toward  a  clearly  discerned  goal,  our 
eternal  home.  The  Christian  march  is  a  march  from 
slavery  to  freedom,  and  from  a  foreign  land  to  our 
native  soil. 

Again,  this  metaphor  suggests  that  this  company  of 
marching  priests  have  in  charge  a  sacred  deposit.  Paul 
speaks  of  the  '  glorious  Gospel  which  was  committed  to 
my  trust. '  '  That  good  thing  which  was  committed 
unto  thee  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  keep. '  The  history  of  the 
return  from  Babylon  in  the  Book  of  Ezra  presents  a  re- 
markable parallel  to  the  language  of  my  text,  for  there 
we  are  told  how,  in  the  preparation  for  the  march,  the 
leader  entrusted  the  sacred  vessels  ot  the  temple,  which 
the  liberality  of  the  heathen  king  had  returned  to  him, 
to  a  group  of  Levites  and  priests,  weighing  them  at  the 
beginning,  and  bidding  them  keep  them  safe  until  they 
were  weighed  again  in  the  courts  of  the  Lord's  house  in 
Jerusalem. 

And,  in  like  manner,  to  us  Christians  is  given   the 

VOL.  II.  F 


82  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  lii. 

charge  of  God's  great  weapons  of  warfare,  with  which 
He  contends  with  the  wickedness  of  the  world — viz.  that 
great  message  of  salvation  through,  and  in,  the  Cross  of 
Jesus  Christ.  And  there  are  committed  to  us,  further, 
to  guard  sedulously,  and  to  keep  bright  and  untarnished 
and  undiminished  in  weight  and  worth,  the  precious 
treasures  of  the  Christian  life  of  communion  with  Him. 
And  we  may  give  another  application  to  the  figure  and 
think  of  the  solemn  trust  which  is  put  into  our  hands, 
in  the  gift  of  our  own  selves,  which  we  ourselves  can 
either  waste,  and  stain,  and  lose,  or  can  guard  and  polish 
into  vessels  '  meet  for  the  Master's  use. ' 

Gathering,  then,  these  ideas  together,  we  take  this  as 
the  ideal  of  the  Christian  community — a  company  of 
priests  on  the  march,  with  a  sacred  deposit  committed  to 
their  trust.  If  we  reflected  more  on  such  a  conception  of 
the  Christian  life,  we  should  more  earnestly  hearken  to, 
and  more  sedulously  discharge,  the  commands  that  are 
built  thereon.     To  these  commands  I  now  turn. 

II.  Note  the  separation  that  befits  the  marching  com- 
pany. 

'  Depart  ye,  depart  ye,  go  ye  out  from  thence,  touch 
no  unclean  thing,  go  ye  out  of  the  midst  of  her. '  In  the 
historical  fulfilment  of  my  text,  separation  from  Baby- 
lon was  the  preliminary  of  the  march.  Our  task  is  not 
so  simple ;  our  separation  from  Babylon  must  be  the  con- 
stant accompaniment  of  our  march.  And  day  by  day  it 
has  to  be  repeated,  if  we  would  lift  a  foot  in  advance 
upon  the  road.  There  is  still  a  Babylon.  The  order  in 
the  midst  of  which  we  live  is  not  organised  on  the  fun- 
damental laws  of  Christ's  Kingdom.  And  wherever 
there  are  men  who  seek  to  order  their  lives  as  Christ 
would  have  them  to  be  ordered,  the  first  necessity  for 


vs.  11, 12]         MARCHING  ORDERS  83 

them  is,  '  Come  out  from  amongst  them,  and  be  ye  sepa- 
rate, saith  the  Lord.'  There  is  no  need  in  this  day  to 
warn  Christian  people  against  an  exaggerated  interpreta- 
tion of  these  commandments.  I  almost  wish  there  were 
more  need.  We  have  been  told  so  often,  in  late  years, 
of  how  Christian  men  ought  to  mingle  with  all  the 
affairs  of  life,  and  count  nothing  that  is  human  foreign 
to  themselves,  that  it  seems  to  me  there  is  vast  need  for 
a  little  emphasis  being  put  on  the  other  side  of  the  truth, 
and  for  separation  being  insisted  upon.  Wherever  there 
is  a  real  grasp  of  Jesus  Christ  for  a  man's  own  personal 
Saviour,  and  a  true  submission  to  Him  as  the  Pattern 
and  Guide  of  life,  a  broad  line  of  demarcation  between 
that  man  and  the  irreligious  life  round  him  will  draw 
itself.  If  the  heart  have  its  tendrils  twined  round  the 
Cross,  it  will  have  detached  them  from  the  world 
around.  Separation  by  reason  of  an  entirely  different 
conception  of  life,  separation  because  the  present  does  not 
look  to  you  as  it  looks  to  the  men  who  see  only  it,  sepa- 
ration because  you  and  they  have  not  only  a  different 
ideal  and  theory  of  life,  but  are  living  from  different  mo- 
tives and  for  different  ends  and  by  different  pov/ers,  will 
be  the  inevitable  result  of  any  real  union  with  Jesus 
Christ.  If  I  am  joined  to  Him  I  am  separated  from  the 
world ;  and  detachment  from  it  is  the  simple  and  neces- 
sary result  of  any  real  attachment  to  Him.  There  will 
always  be  a  gulf  in  feeling,  in  purpose,  in  view,  and 
therefore  there  will  often  have  to  be  separation  outward 
things.  '  So  did  not  I  because  of  the  fear  of  the  Lord  ' 
will  have  to  be  said  over  and  over  again  by  any  real  and 
honest  follower  of  the  Master. 

This  separation  will  not  only  be  the  result  of  union 
with  Jesus  Christ,  but  it  is  the  condition  of  all  progress 


84  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lii. 

in  our  union  with  Him.  We  must  be  unmoored  before 
we  can  advance.  Many  a  caravan  has  broken  down  in 
African  exploration  for  no  other  reason  than  because  it 
was  too  well  provided  with  equipments,  and  so  collapsed 
of  its  own  weight.  Therefore,  our  prophet  in  the  con- 
text says,  '  Touch  no  unclean  thing.'  TJiere  is  one  of 
the  differences  between  the  new  Exodus  and  the  old. 
When  Israel  came  out  of  Egypt  they  spoiled  the  Egyp- 
tians, and  came  away  laden  with  gold  and  jewels ;  but  it 
is  dangerous  work  bringing  anything  away  from  Babylon 
with  us.  Its  treasure  has  to  be  left  if  we  would  march 
close  behind  our  Lord  and  Master.  We  must  touch 
'  no  unclean  thing, '  because  our  hands  are  to  be  filled 
with  the  '  vessels  of  the  Lord. '  I  am  preaching  no  im- 
possible asceticism,  no  misanthropical  withdrawal  from 
the  duties  of  life,  and  the  obligations  that  we  owe  to  so- 
ciety. God's  world  is  a  good  one;  man's  world  is  a  bad 
one.  It  is  man's  world  that  we  have  to  leave,  but  the 
loftiest  sanctity  requires  no  abstention  from  anything 
that  God  has  ordained. 

Now,  dear  friends,  I  venture  to  think  that  this  mes- 
sage is  one  that  we  all  dreadfully  need  to-day.  There 
are  a  great  many  Christians,  so-called,  in  this  genera- 
tion, who  seem  to  think  that  the  main  object  they  should 
have  in  view  is  to  obliterate  the  distinction  between 
themselves  and  the  world  of  ungodly  men,  and  in  occu- 
pation and  amusements  to  be  as  like  people  that  have  no 
religion  as  they  possibly  can  manage.  So  they  get  credit 
for  being  '  liberal '  Christians,  and  praise  from  quarters 
whose  praise  is  censure,  and  whose  approval  ought  to 
make  a  Christian  man  very  uncomfortable.  Better  by 
far  the  narrowest  Puritanism — I  was  going  to  say  better 
by  far  monkish  austerities — than  a  Christianity  which 


m. 


vs.  11, 12]  MARCHING  ORDERS  85 

knows  no  self-denial,  which  is  perfectly  at  home  in  an 
irreligious  atmosphere,  and  which  resents  the  exhortation 
to  separation,  because  it  would  fain  keep  the  things  that 
it  is  bidden  to  drop,  God's  reiteration  of  the  text 
through  Paul  to  the  Church  in  luxurious,  corrupt, 
wealthy  Corinth  is  a  gospel  for  this  day  for  English 
Christians,  '  Come  out  from  among  them,  and  I  will 
receive  you,' 

III.  Further,  note  the  purity  which  becomes  the  bear- 
ers of  the  vessels  of  the  Lord. 

'Be  ye  clean,'  The  priest's  hands  must  be  pure, 
which  figure,  being  translated,  is  that  transparent  purity 
of  conduct  and  character  is  demanded  from  all  Christian 
men  who  profess  to  bear  God's  sacred  deposit.  You  can- 
not carry  it  unless  your  hands  are  clean,  for  all  the  gifts 
that  God  gives  us  glide  from  our  grasp  if  our  hands  be 
stained.  Monkish  legends  tell  of  sacred  pictures  and  ves- 
sels which,  when  an  impure  touch  was  laid  upon  them, 
refused  to  be  lifted  from  their  place,  and  grew  there,  as 
rooted,  in  spite  of  all  efforts  to  move  them.  Whoever 
seeks  to  hold  the  gifts  of  God  in  His  Gospel  in  dirty 
hands  will  fail  miserably  in  the  attempt ;  and  all  the  joy 
and  peace  of  communion,  the  assurance  of  God's  love, 
and  the  calm  hope  of  immortal  life  will  vanish  as  a  soap 
bubble,  grasped  by  a  child,  turns  into  a  drop  of  foul 
water  on  its  palm,  if  we  try  to  hold  them  in  foul  hands. 
Be  clean,  or  you  cannot  bear  the  vessels  of  the  Lord. 

And  further,  remember  that  no  priestly  service  nor 
any  successful  warfare  for  Jesus  Christ  is  possible,  ex- 
cept on  the  same  condition.  One  sin,  as  well  as  one  sin- 
ner, destroys  much  good,  and  a  little  inconsistency  on  the 
part  of  us  professing  Christians  neutralises  all  the  efforts 
that  we  may  ever  try  to  put  forth  for  Him.     Logic  re- 


86  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH         [ch.  lii 

quires  that  God's  vessels  should  be  carried  with  clean 
hands.  God  requires  it,  men  require  it,  and  have  a  right 
to  require  it.  The  mightiest  witness  for  Him  is  the  wit- 
ness of  a  pure  life,  and  if  we  go  about  the  world  profess- 
ing to  be  His  messengers,  and  carrying  His  epistle  in  our 
dirty  fingers,  the  soiled  thumb-mark  upon  it  will  prevent 
men  from  caring  for  the  message ;  and  the  Word  will  be 
despised  because  of  the  unworthiness  of  its  bearers.  '  Be 
ye  clean  that  bear  the  vessels  of  the  Lord. ' 

IV.  Lastly,  notice  the  leisurely  confidence  which 
should  mark  the  march  that  is  guarded  by  God.  'Ye 
shall  not  go  out  with  haste,  nor  go  by  flight,  for  the 
Lord  will  go  before  you,  and  the  God  of  Israel  will  be 
your  rereward. ' 

This  is  partly  an  analogy  and  partly  a  contrast  with 
the  story  of  the  first  Exodus.  The  unusual  word  trans- 
lated '  with  haste  '  is  employed  in  the  Pentateuch  to  de- 
scribe the  hurry  and  bustle,  not  altogether  due  to  the 
urgency  of  the  Egyptians,  but  partly  also  to  the  terror 
of  Israel,  with  which  that  first  flight  was  conducted. 
And,  says  my  text,  in  this  new  coming  out  of  bondage 
there  shall  be  no  need  for  tremor  or  perturbation,  lending 
wings  to  any  man's  feet;  but,  with  quiet  deliberation, 
like  that  with  which  Peter  was  brought  out  of  his  dun- 
geon, because  God  knew  that  He  could  bring  him  out 
safely,  the  new  Exodus  shall  be  carried  on. 

'  He  that  believeth  shall  not  make  haste. '  Why 
should  he?  There  is  no  need  for  a  Christian  man  ever  to 
be  flurried,  or  to  lose  his  self-command,  or  ever  to  be  in 
an  undignified  and  unheroic  hurry.  His  march  should 
be  unceasing,  swift,  but  calm  and  equable,  as  the  mo- 
tions of  the  planets,  unhasting  and  unresting. 

There  is  a  very  good  reason  why  we  need  not  be  in  any 


vs.  11, 12]  MARCHING  ORDERS  87 

haste  due  to  alarm.  For,  as  in  the  first  Exodus,  the 
guiding  pillar  led  the  march,  and  sometimes,  when  there 
were  foes  behind,  as  at  the  Red  Sea,  shifted  its  place  to 
the  rear,  so  '  the  Lord  will  go  before  you,  and  the  God  of 
Israel  will  be  your  rereward. '  He  besets  us  behind  and 
before,  going  in  front  to  be  our  Guide,  and  in  the  rear 
for  our  protection,  gathering  up  the  stragglers,  so  that 
there  shall  not  be  '  a  hoof  left  behind, '  and  putting  a  wall 
of  iron  between  us  and  the  swarms  of  hovering  enemies 
that  hang  on  our  march.  Thus  encircled  by  God,  we 
shall  be  safe.  Christ  fulfils  what  the  prophet  pledged 
God  to  do ;  for  He  goes  before  us,  the  Pattern,  the  Cap- 
tain of  our  salvation,  the  Forerunner,  '  the  Breaker  is 
gone  up  before  them  ' ;  and  He  comes  behind  us  to  guard 
us  from  evil ;  for  He  is  '  the  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  be- 
ginning and  the  ending,  the  Almighty. ' 

Dear  brethren,  life  for  us  all  must  be  a  weary  pilgrim- 
age. We  cannot  alter  that.  It  is  the  lot  of  every  son  of 
man.  But  we  have  the  power  of  either  making  it  a 
dreary,  solitary  tramp  over  an  undefended  desert,  to  end 
in  the  great  darkness,  or  else  of  making  it  a  march  in 
which  the  twin  sisters  Joy  and  Peace  shall  lead  us  forth, 
and  go  out  with  us,  and  the  other  pair  of  angel-forms, 
'  Goodness  and  Mercy,'  shall  follow  us  all  the  days  of 
our  lives.  We  may  make  it  a  journey  with  Jesus  for 
Guide  and  Companion,  to  Jesus  as  our  Home.  '  The 
ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return,  and  come  to  Zion 
with  songs,  and  everlasting  joy  upon  their  heads. ' 


THE  ARM   OF  THE  LORD 

'To  whom  is  the  arm  of  the  Lord  revealed?' — Isaiah  liii.  1. 

In  the  second  Isaiah  there  are  numerous  references  to 
'  the  arm  of  the  Lord. '  It  is  a  natural  symbol  of  the 
active  energy  of  Jehovah,  and  is  analogous  to  the  other 
symbol  of  '  the  Face  of  Jehovah, '  vv^hich  is  also  found  in 
this  book,  in  so  far  as  it  emphasises  the  notion  of  power 
in  manifestation,  though  '  the  Face'  has  a  wider  range 
and  may  be  explained  as  equivalent  to  that  part  of  the 
divine  Nature  which  is  turned  to  men.  The  latter  sym- 
bol will  then  be  substantially  parallel  with  '  the  Name. ' 
But  there  are  traces  of  a  tendency  to  conceive  of  '  the 
arm  of  the  Lord  '  as  personified,  for  instance,  where  we 
read  (ch.  Ixiii.  12)  that  Jehovah  '  caused  His  glorious  arm 
to  go  at  the  right  hand  of  Moses. '  Moses  was  not  the 
true  leader,  but  •was  himself  led  and  sustained  by  the 
divine  Power,  dimly  conceived  as  a  person,  ever  by  his 
side  to  sustain  and  direct.  There  seems  to  be  a  similar 
imperfect  consciousness  of  personification  in  the  words  of 
the  text,  especially  when  taken  in  their  close  connection 
with  the  immediately  following  prophecy  of  the  suffering 
servant.  It  would  be  doing  violence  to  the  gradual  de- 
velopment of  Revelation,  like  tearing  asunder  the  just- 
opening  petals  of  a  rose,  to  read  into  this  question  of  the 
sad  prophet  full-blown  Christian  truth,  but  it  would  be 
missing  a  clear  anticipation  of  that  truth  to  fail  to  recog- 
nise the  forecasting  of  it  that  is  here. 

I.  We  have  here  a  prophetic  forecast  that  the  arm  of 
the  Lord  is  a  person. 

The  strict  monotheism  of  the  Old  Testament  does  not 
preclude  some  very  remarkable  phenomena  in  its  modes 
of  conception  and  speech  as  to  the  divine  Nature.     We 


V.  1]  THE  ARM  OF  THE  LORD  89 

hear  of  the  '  angel  of  His  face, '  and  again  of  *  the  angel 
in  whom  is  His  Name. '  We  hear  of  '  the  angel '  to 
whom  divine  worship  is  addressed  and  who  speaks,  as  we 
may  say,  in  a  divine  dialect  and  does  divine  acts.  We 
meet,  too,  with  the  personification  of  Wisdom  in  the 
Book  of  Proverbs,  to  which  are  ascribed  characteristics 
and  are  attributed  acts  scarcely  distinguishable  from 
divine,  and  eminently  associated  in  the  creative  work. 
Our  text  points  in  the  same  direction  as  these  representa- 
tions. They  all  tend  in  the  direction  of  preparing  for  the 
full  Christian  truth  of  the  personal  'Power  of  God.' 
What  was  shown  by  glimpses  'at  sundry  times  and  in 
divers  manners, '  with  many  gaps  in  the  showing  and 
much  left  all  unshown,  is  perfectly  revealed  in  the  Son. 
The  New  Testament,  by  its  teaching  as  to  '  the  Eternal 
Word,'  endorses,  clears,  and  expands  all  these  earlier 
dimmer  adumbrations.  That  Word  is  the  agent  of  the 
divine  energy,  and  the  conception  of  power  as  being  ex- 
ercised by  the  Word  is  even  loftier  than  that  of  it  as  put 
forth  by  '  the  arm, '  by  as  much  as  intelligent  and  intelli- 
gible utterance  is  more  spiritual  and  higher  than  force  of 
muscle.  The  apostolic  designation  of  Jesus  as  '  the  power 
of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God  '  blends  the  two  ideas  of 
these  two  symbols.  The  conception  of  Jesus  Christ  as 
the  arm  of  the  Lord,  when  united  with  that  of  the  Eter- 
nal Word,  points  to  a  threefold  sphere  and  manner  of 
His  operations,  as  the  personal  manifestation  of  the  ac- 
tive power  of  God.  In  the  beginning,  the  arm  of  the 
Lord  stretched  out  the  heavens  as  a  tent  to  dwell  in,  and 
without  Him  '  was  not  anything  made  that  was  made. ' 
In  His  Incarnation,  He  carried  into  execution  all  God's 
purposes  and  fulfilled  His  whole  will.  From  His  throne 
He  wields  divine  power,  and  rules  the  universe.     'The 


90  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  liil 

help  that  is  done  on  earth,  He  doeth  it  all  Himself, '  and 
He  works  in  the  midst  of  humanity  that  redeeming  work 
which  none  but  He  can  effect. 

II.  We  have  here  a  prophetic  paradox  that  the  mighti- 
est revelation  of  the  arm  of  the  Lord  is  in  weakness. 

The  words  of  the  text  stand  in  closest  connection  with 
the  great  picture  of  the  Suffering  Servant  which  follows, 
and  the  pathetic  figure  portrayed  there  is  the  revealing 
of  the  arm  of  the  Lord.  The  close  bringing  together  of 
the  ideas  of  majesty  and  power  and  of  humiliation,  suf- 
fering, and  weakness,  would  be  a  paradox  to  the  first 
hearers  of  the  prophecy.  Its  solution  lies  in  the  histori- 
cal manifestation  of  Jesus.  Looking  on  Him,  we  see 
that  the  growing  up  of  that  root  out  of  a  dry  ground  was 
the  revelation  of  the  great  power  of  God.  In  Jesus' 
lowly  humanity  God's  power  is  made  perfect  in  man's 
weakness,  in  another  and  not  less  true  sense  than  that  in 
which  the  apostle  spoke.  There  we  see  divine  power  in 
its  noblest  form,  in  its  grandest  operation,  in  its  widest 
sweep,  in  its  loftiest  purpose.  That  humble  man,  lowly 
and  poor,  despised  and  rejected  in  life,  hanging  faint  and 
pallid  on  the  Roman  cross,  and  dying  in  the  dark,  seems 
a  strange  manifestation  of  the  '  glory '  of  God,  but  the 
Cross  is  indeed  His  throne,  and  sublime  as  are  the  other 
forms  in  which  Omnipotence  clothes  itself,  this  is,  to  hu- 
man eyes  and  hearts,  the  highest  of  them  all.  In  Jesus 
the  arm  of  the  Lord  is  revealed  in  its  grandest  operation. 
Creation  and  the  continual  sustaining  of  a  universe  are 
great,  but  redemption  is  greater.  It  is  infinitely  more  to 
say,  '  He  giveth  power  to  the  faint, '  than  to  say,  '  For 
that  He  is  strong  in  might,  not  one  f aileth, '  and  to  prin- 
cipalities and  powers  in  heavenly  places  who  have  gazed 
on  the  grand  operations  of  divine  power  for  ages,  new 


V.  1]  THE  ARM  OF  THE  LORD  91 

lessons  of  what  it  can  effect  are  taught  by  the  redemp- 
tion of  sinful  men.  The  divine  power  that  is  enshrined 
in  Jesus'  weakness  is  power  in  its  widest  sweep,  for  it  is 
to  every  one  that  believeth,  and  in  its  loftiest  purpose, 
for  it  is  '  unto  salvation. ' 

III.  We  have  here  a  prophetic  lament  that  the  power 
revealed  to  all  is  unseen  by  many. 

The  text  is  a  wail  over  darkened  eyes,  blind  at  noon- 
day. The  prophet's  radiant  anticipations  of  the  Ser- 
vant's exaltation,  and  of  God's  holy  arm  being  made 
bare  in  the  eyes  of  all  nations,  are  clouded  over  by  the 
thought  of  the  incredulity  of  the  multitude  to  '  our  re- 
port.'  Jehovah  had  indeed  'made  bare  His  arm,' as  a 
warrior  throws  back  his  loose  robe,  when  he  would 
strike.  But  what  was  the  use  of  that,  if  dull  eyes  would 
not  look?  The  '  report '  had  been  loudly  proclaimed,  but 
what  was  the  use  of  that,  if  ears  were  obstinately 
stopped?  Alas,  alas!  nothing  that  God  can  do  secures 
that  men  shall  see  what  He  shows,  or  listen  to  what  He 
speaks.  The  mystery  of  mysteries  is  that  men  can,  the 
tragedy  of  tragedies  is  that  they  will,  make  any  possible 
revelation  of  none  effect,  so  far  as  they  are  concerned. 

The  Arm  is  revealed,  but  only  by  those  who  have  '  be- 
lieved our  report '  does  the  prophet  deem  it  to  be  actually 
beheld.  Faith  is  the  individual  condition  on  which  the 
perfected  revelation  becomes  a  revelation  to  me.  The 
'  salvation  of  our  God  '  is  shown  in  splendour  to  '  all  the 
ends  of  the  earth, '  but  only  they  who  exercise  faith  in 
Jesus,  who  is  the  power  of  God,  will  see  that  far-shining 
light.  If  we  are  rot  of  those  who  '  believe  the  report,' 
we  shall,  notwithstanr^ing  that  '  He  hath  made  bare  His 
holy  arm,'  be  of  those  \.ho  grope  at  noonday  as  in  the 
dark. 


THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT— I 

'  For  He  grew  up  before  Him  as  a  tender  plant,  and  as  a  root  out  of  a  diy 
ground:  He  hath  no  form  nor  comeliness;  and  when  we  see  Him,  there  is 
no  beauty  that  we  should  desire  Him.  3.  He  was  despised,  and  rejected 
of  men;  a  Man  of  Sorrows,  and  acquainted  with  grief:  and  as  one  from 
whom  men  hide  their  face  He  was  despised,  and  we  esteemed  Him  not.' — 
Isaiah  liii.  2,  3. 

To  hold  fast  the  fulfilment  of  this  prophecy  of  the  Suffer- 
ing Servant  in  Jesus  it  is  not  necessary  to  deny  its  refer- 
ence to  Israel.  Just  as  offices,  institutions,  and  persons 
in  it  were  prophetic,  and  by  their  failures  to  realise  to 
the  full  their  own  role,  no  less  than  by  their  partial  pre- 
sentation of  it,  pointed  onwards  to  Him,  in  whom  their 
idea  would  finally  take  form  and  substance,  so  this  great 
picture  of  God's  Servant,  which  was  but  imperfectly  re- 
produced even  by  the  Israel  within  Israel,  stood  on  the 
prophet's  page  a  fair  though  sad  dream,  with  nothing 
corresponding  to  it  in  the  region  of  reality  and  history, 
till  He  came  and  lived  and  suffered. 

If  we  venture  to  make  it  the  theme  of  a  short  series 
of  sermons,  our  object  is  simply  to  endeavour  to  bring 
out  clearly  the  features  of  the  wonderful  portrait.  If 
they  are  fully  apprehended,  it  seems  to  us  that  the  ques- 
tion of  who  is  the  original  of  the  picture  answers  itself. 
We  must  note  that  the  whole  is  introduced  by  a  '  For,' 
that  is  to  say,  that  it  is  all  explanatory  of  the  unbelief 
and  blindness  to  the  revealed  arm  of  the  Lord,  which  the 
prophet  has  just  been  lamenting.  This  close  connection 
with  the  preceding  words  accounts  for  the  striking  way 
in  which  the  description  of  tlie  person  of  the  Servant  is 
here  blended  with,  or  intern  )ted  by,  thctt  of  the  manner 
in  which  he  was  treated. 

I.  The  Servant's  lowly  origin  an*?  growth. 

'  He  grew, ' — not  '  shall  grow. '     The  whole  is  cast  into 
the  form  of  history,  and  to  begin  the  description  with  a 


vs.  2,  3]     THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  93 

future  tense  is  not  only  an  error  in  grammar  but  gratui- 
tously introduces  an  incongruity.  The  word  rendered 
'  tender  plant '  means  a  sucker,  and  '  root '  probably 
would  more  properly  be  taken  as  a  shoot  from  a  root,  the 
tree  having  been  felled,  and  nothing  left  but  the  stump. 
There  is  here,  then,  at  the  outset,  an  unmistakable  refer-^ 
ence  to  the  prophecy  in  eh.  xi.  1,  which  is  Messianic 
prophecy,  and  therefore  there  is  a'presumption  that  this 
too  has  a  Messianic  reference.  In  the  original  passage 
the  stump  or  '  stock  '  is  explained  as  being  the  humiliated 
house  of  David,  and  it  is  only  following  the  indications 
supplied  by  the  fact  of  the  second  Isaiah's  quotation  of 
the  first,  if  we  take  the  implication  in  his  words  to  be 
the  same.  Royal  descent,  but  from  a  royal  house  fallen 
on  evil  days,  is  the  plain  meaning  here. 

And  the  eclipse  of  its  glory  is  further  brought  out  in 
that  not  only  does  the  shoot  spring  from  a  tree,  all  whose 
leafy  honours  have  long  been  lopped  away,  but  which  is 
'  in  a  dry  ground.'  Surely  we  do  not  force  a  profounder 
meaning  than  is  legitimate  into  this  feature  of  the  picture 
when  we  think  of  the  Carpenter's  Son  '  of  the  house  and 
lineage  of  David, '  of  the  Son  of  God  '  who  was  found  in 
fashion  as  a  man, '  of  Him  who  was  born  in  a  stable,  and 
grew  up  in  a  tiny  village  hidden  away  among  the  hills  of 
Galilee,  who,  as  it  were,  stole  into  the  world  '  not  with 
observation, '  and  opened  out,  as  He  grew,  the  wondrous 
blossom  of  a  perfect  humanity  such  as  had  never  before 
been  evolved  from  any  root,  nor  grown  on  the  most  sed- 
ulously cultured  plant.  Is  this  part  of  the  prophet's  ideal 
realised  in  any  of  the  other  suggested  realisations  of  it? 

But  there  is  still  another  point  in  regard  to  the  origin 
and  growth  of  the  lowly  shoot  from  the  felled  stump — it 
is  '  before  Him.'     Then  the  unnoticed  growth  is  noticed 


94  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  liii. 

by  Jehovah,  and,  though  cared  for  by  no  others,  is  cared 
for,  tended,  and  guarded,  by  Him. 

II,  The  Servant's  unattractive  form. 

Naturally  a  shoot  springing  in  a  dry  ground  would 
show  but  little  beauty  of  foliage  or  flower.  It  would  be 
starved  and  colourless  beside  the  gaudy  growths  in  fer- 
tile, well-watered  gardens.  But  that  unattractiveness  is 
not  absolute  or  real;  it  is  only  'that  we  should  desire 
Him. '  We  are  but  poor  judges  of  true  '  form  or  come- 
liness,' and  what  is  lustrous  with  perfect  beauty  in  God's 
eyes  may  be,  and  generally  is,  plain  and  dowdy  in  men's. 
Our  tastes  are  debased.  Flaunting  vulgarities  and  self- 
assertive  ugliness  captivate  vulgar  eyes,  to  which  the 
serene  beauties  of  mere  goodness  seem  insipid.  Cocka- 
toos charm  savages  to  whom  the  iridescent  neck  of  a  dove 
has  no  charms.  Surely  this  part  of  the  description  fits 
Jesus  as  it  does  no  other.  The  entire  absence  of  out- 
ward show,  or  of  all  that  pleases  the  spoiled  tastes  of 
sinful  men,  need  not  be  dwelt  on.  No  doubt  the  world 
has  slowly  come  to  recognise  in  Him  the  moral  ideal,  a 
perfect  man,  but  He  has  been  educating  it  for  nineteen 
hundred  years  to  get  it  up  to  that  point,  and  the  educa- 
tional process  is  very  far  from  complete.  The  real  desire 
of  most  men  is  for  something  much  more  pungent  and 
dashing  than  Jesus'  meek  wisdom  and  stainless  purity, 
which  breed  in  them  ennui  rather  than  longing,  'Not 
this  man  but  Barabbas,'  was  the  approximate  realisation 
of  the  Jewish  ideal  then ;  not  this  man  but — some  type 
or  other  of  a  less  oppressive  perfection,  and  that  calls  for 
less  effort  to  imitate  it,  is  the  world's  real  cry  still.  Pi- 
late's scornfully  wondering  question:  Art  Thou — such 
a  poor-looking  creature — the  King  of  the  Jews?  is  very 
much  of  a  piece  with  the  world's  question  still:  Art  Thou 


vs.  2, 3]      THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  95 

the  perfect  instance  of  manhood?     Art  Thou  the  highest 
revelation  of  God  ? 

III.  The  Servant's  reception  by  men. 

The  two  preceding  characteristics  naturally  result  in 
this  third.  For  lowliness  of  condition  and  lack  of  quali- 
ties appealing  to  men's  false  ideals  will  certainly  lead  to 
being  '  despised  and  rejected. '  The  latter  expression  is 
probably  better  taken,  as  in  the  margin  of  the  Rev.  Ver. 
as  '  forsaken. '  But  whichever  meaning  is  adopted,  what 
an  Iliad  of  woes  is  condensed  into  these  two  words!  '  The 
spurns  that  patient  merit  of  the  unworthy  takes,'  the 
loneliness  of  one  who,  in  all  the  crowd  descries  none  to 
trust — these  are  the  wages  that  the  world  ever  gives  to 
its  noblest,  who  live  but  to  help  it  and  be  misunderstood 
by  it,  and  as  these  are  the  wages  of  all  who  with  self-de- 
votion would  serve  God  by  serving  the  world  for  its  good, 
they  were  paid  in  largest  measure  to  '  the  Servant  of  the 
Lord.'  His  claims  were  ridiculed,  His  words  of  wisdom 
thrown  back  on  Himself;  none  were  so  poor  but  could 
afford  to  despise  Him  as  lower  than  they,  His  love  was 
repulsed,  surely  He  drank  the  bitterest  cup  of  contempt. 
All  His  life  He  walked  in  the  solitude  of  uncomprehended 
aims,  and  at  His  hour  of  extremest  need  appealed  in  vain 
for  a  little  solace  of  companionship,  and  was  deserted  by 
those  whom  He  trusted  most.  His  was  a  lifelong  mar- 
tyrdom inflicted  by  men.  His  was  a  lifelong  solitude 
which  was  most  utter  at  the  last.  And  He  brought  it  all 
on  Himself  because  He  would  be  God's  Servant  in  being 
men's  Saviour. 

IV.  The  Servant's  sorrow  of  heart. 

The  remarkable  expression  '  acquainted  with  grief ' 
seems  to  carry  an  allusion  to  the  previous  clause,  in 
which  men  are  spoken  of  as  despising  and  rejecting  the 


96  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  liii. 

Servant.  They  left  Him  alone,  and  His  only  companion 
was  '  grief  ' — a  grim  associate  to  walk  at  a  man's  side  all 
his  days!  It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  word  rendered 
*  grief '  is  literally  sickness.  That  description  of  mental 
or  spiritual  sorrows  under  the  imagery  of  bodily  sicknesses 
is  intensified  in  the  subsequent  terrible  picture  of  Him 
as  one  from  whom  men  hide  their  faces  with  disgust  at 
His  hideous  appearance,  caused  by  disease.  Possibly  the 
meaning  may  rather  be  that  He  hides  His  face,  as  lepers 
had  to  do. 

Now  probably  the  '  sorrows '  touched  on  at  this  point 
are  to  be  distinguished  from  those  which  subsequently 
are  spoken  of  in  terms  of  such  poignancy  as  laid  on  the 
Servant  by  God.  Here  the  prophet  is  thinking  rather  of 
those  which  fell  on  Him  by  reason  of  men's  rejection  and 
desertion.  We  shall  not  rightly  estimate  the  sorrowful- 
ness of  Christ's  sorrows,  unless  we  bring  to  our  medita- 
tions on  them  the  other  thought  of  His  joys.  How  great 
these  were  we  can  judge,  when  we  remember  that  He 
told  the  disciples  that  by  His  joy  remaining  in  them  their 
joy  would  be  full.  As  much  Joy  then  as  human  nature 
was  capable  of  from  perfect  purity,  filial  obedience, 
trust,  and  unbroken  communion  with  God,  so  much  was 
Jesus'  permanent  experience.  The  golden  cup  of  His 
pure  nature  was  ever  full  to  the  brim  with  the  richest 
wine  of  joy.  And  that  constant  experience  of  gladness 
in  the  Father  and  in  Himself  made  more  painful  the  sor- 
rows which  He  encountered,  like  a  biting  wind  shrieking 
round  Him,  whenever  He  passed  out  from  fellowship 
with  God  in  the  stillness  of  His  soul  into  the  contemptu- 
ous and  hostile  world.  His  spirit  carrying  with  it  the 
still  atmosphere  of  the  Holy  Place,  would  feel  more 
keenly  than  any  other  would  have  done  the  jarring  tu- 


vs.  2, 3]     THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  97 

mult  of  the  crowds,  and  would  know  a  sharper  pain 
when  met  with  greetings  in  which  was  no  kindness. 
Jesus  was  sinless,  His  sympathy  with  all  sorrow  was 
thereby  rendered  abnormally  keen,  and  He  made  others' 
griefs  His  own  with  an  identification  born  of  a  sympathy 
which  the  most  compassionate  cannot  attain.  The 
greater  the  love,  the  greater  the  sorrow  of  the  loving 
heart  when  its  love  is  spurned.  The  intenser  the  yearn- 
ing for  companionship,  the  sharper  the  pang  when  it  is 
repulsed.  The  more  one  longs  to  bless,  the  more  one 
suffers  when  his  blessings  are  flung  off.  Jesus  was  the 
most  sensitive,  the  most  sympathetic,  the  most  loving 
soul  that  ever  dwelt  in  flesh.  He  saw,  as  none  other  has 
ever  seen,  man's  miseries.  He  experienced,  as  none  else 
has  ever  experienced,  man's  ingratitude,  and,  therefore, 
though  God,  even  His  God,  '  anointed  Him  with  the  oil 
of  gladness  above  His  fellows, '  He  was  '  a  Man  of  Sor- 
rows,' and  grief  was  His  companion  during  all  His  life's 
course. 

THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT— II 

'Surely  He  hath  borne  our  griefs,  and  carried  our  sorrows:  yet  we  did 
esteem  Him  stricken,  smitten  of  God,  and  afflicted.  5.  But  He  was 
wounded  for  our  transgressions.  He  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities:  the 
chastisement  of  our  peace  was  upon  Him;  and  with  His  stripes  we  are 
healed.  6.  All  we  like  sheep  have  gone  astray;  we  have  turned  every  one 
to  his  own  way;  and  the  Lord  hath  laid  (made  to  light)  on  Him  the  in- 
iquity of  us  all.' — Isaiah  liii.  4-6. 

The  note  struck  lightly  in  the  close  of  the  preceding  par- 
agraph becomes  dominant  here.  One  notes  the  accumu- 
lation of  expressions  for  suffering,  crowded  into  these 
verses — griefs,  sorrows,  wounded,  bruised,  smitten,  chas- 
tisement, stripes.  One  notes  that  the  cause  of  all  this 
multiform  infliction  is  given  with  like  emphasis  of  reiter- 

VOL.  II.  G 


98  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  liii. 

ation — our  griefs,  our  sorrows,  and  that  these  afflictions 
are  invested  with  a  still  more  tragic  and  mysterious 
aspect,  by  being  traced  to  our  transgressions,  our  iniqui- 
ties. Finally,  the  deepest  word  of  all  is  spoken  when  the 
whole  mystery  of  the  servant's  sufferings  is  referred  to 
Jehovah's  making  the  universal  iniquity  to  lie,  like  a 
crushing  burden,  on  Him. 

I.  The  Burdened  Servant. 

It  is  to  be  kept  in  view  that  the  '  griefs  '  which  the  ser- 
vant is  here  described  as  bearing  are  literally  '  sick- 
nesses, '  and  that,  similarly,  the  '  sorrows '  may  be  dis- 
eases. Matthew  in  his  quotation  of  the  verse  (viii.  17) 
takes  the  words  to  refer  to  bodily  ailments,  and  finds 
their  'fulfilment'  in  Christ's  miracles  of  healing.  And 
that  interpretation  is  part  of  the  whole  truth,  for  He- 
brew thought  drew  no  such  sharp  line  of  distinction  be- 
tween diseases  of  the  body  and  those  of  the  soul  as  we  are 
accustomed  to  draw.  All  sickness  was  taken  to  be  the 
consequence  of  sin,  and  the  intimate  connection  between 
the  two  was,  as  it  were,  set  forth  for  all  forms  of  bodily 
disease  by  the  elaborate  treatment  prescribed  for  leprosy, 
as  pre-eminently  fitted  to  stand  as  type  of  the  whole. 
But  the  fulfilment  through  the  miracles  is  but  a  parable 
of  the  deeper  fulfilment  in  regard  to  the  more  virulent 
and  deadly  diseases  of  the  soul.  Sin  is  the  sickness,  as  it 
is  also  the  grief,  which  most  afflicts  humanity.  Of  the 
two  words  expressing  the  Servant's  taking  their  burden 
on  His  shoulders,  the  former  implies  not  only  the  taking 
of  it  but  the  bearing  of  it  away,  and  the  latter  emphasises 
the  weight  of  the  load. 

Following  Matthew's  lead,  we  may  regard  Christ's 
miracles  of  healing  as  one  form  of  His  fulfilment  of  the 
prophecy,  in  which  the  principles  that  shape  all  the  forms 


vs.  4-6]    THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  99 

are  at  work,  and  which,  therefore,  may  stand  as  a  kind 
of  pictorial  illustration  of  the  way  in  which  He  bears  and 
bears  away  the  heavier  burden  of  sin.  And  one  point 
which  comes  out  clearly  is  that,  in  these  acts  of  healing, 
He  felt  the  weight  of  the  affliction  that  He  took  away. 
Even  in  that  region,  the  condition  of  ability  to  remove 
it,  was  identifying  Himself  with  the  sorrow.  Did  He 
not  '  sigh  and  look  up '  in  silent  appeal  to  heaven  before 
He  could  say,  Ephphatha?  Did  He  not  groan  in  Him- 
self before  He  sent  the  voice  into  the  tomb  which  the 
dead  heard?  His  miracles  were  not  easy,  though  He 
had  all  power,  for  He  felt  all  that  the  sufferers  felt,  by 
the  identifying  power  of  the  unparalleled  sympathy  of 
a  pure  nature.  In  that  region  His  pain  on  account  of 
the  sufferers  stood  in  vital  relation  with  His  power  to 
end  their  sufferings.  The  load  must  gall  His  shoulders, 
ere  He  could  bear  it  away  from  theirs. 

But  the  same  principles  as  apply  to  these  deeds  of 
mercy  done  on  diseases  apply  to  all  His  deeds  of  deliver- 
ance from  sorrow  and  from  sin.  In  Him  is  set  forth 
in  highest  fashion  the  condition  of  all  brotherly  help  and 
alleviation.  Whoever  would  lighten  a  brother's  load 
must  stoop  his  own  shoulders  to  carr}'-  it.  And  whilst 
there  is  an  element  in  our  Lord's  sufferings,  as  the  text 
passes  on  to  say,  which  is  not  explained  by  the  analogy 
with  what  is  required  from  all  human  succourers  and 
healers,  the  extent  to  which  the  lower  experience  of 
such  corresponds  with  His  unique  work  should  always 
be  made  prominent  in  our  devout  meditations. 

II.  The  Servant's  sufferings  in  their  reason,  their  in- 
tensity, and  their  issue. 

The  same  measure  that  was  meted  out  to  Job  by  his 
so-called  friends  was  measured  to  the  servant,  and  at 


100  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  liii. 

the  impulse  of  the  same  heartless  doctrinal  preposses- 
sion. He  must  have  been  bad  to  suffer  so  much;  that  is 
the  rough  and  ready  verdict  of  the  self-righteous.  With 
crashing  emphasis,  that  complacent  explanation  of  the 
Servant's  sufferings  and  their  own  prosperity  is  shivered 
to  atoms,  by  the  statement  of  the  true  reason  for  both 
the  one  and  the  other.  You  thought  that  He  was 
afflicted  because  He  was  bad  and  you  were  spared  be- 
cause you  were  good — no.  He  was  afflicted  because  you 
were  bad,  and  you  were  spared  because  He  was  afflicted. 

The  reason  for  the  Servant's  sufferings  was  '  our 
transgressions.'  More  is  suggested  now  than  sympa- 
thetic identification  with  others'  sorrows.  This  is  an 
actual  bearing  of  the  consequences  of  sins  which  He  had 
not  committed,  and  that  not  merely  as  an  innocent  man 
may  be  overwhelmed  by  the  flood  of  evil  which  has  been 
let  loose  by  others'  sins  to  sweep  over  the  earth.  The 
blow  that  wounds  Him  is  struck  directly  and  solely  at 
Him.  He  is  not  entangled  in  a  widespread  calamity, 
but  is  the  only  victim.  It  is  pre-supposed  that  all  trans- 
gression leads  to  wounds  and  bruises ;  but  the  transgres- 
sions are  done  by  us,  and  the  wounds  and  bruises  fall  on 
Him.  Can  the  idea  of  vicarious  suffering  be  more 
plainly  set  forth? 

The  intensity  of  the  Servant's  sufferings  is  brought 
home  to  our  hearts  by  the  accumulation  of  epithets,  to 
which  reference  has  already  been  made.  He  was 
'  wounded  '  as  one  who  is  pierced  by  a  sharp  sword ; 
'  bruised '  as  one  who  is  stoned  to  death ;  beaten  and 
with  livid  weales  on  His  flesh.  A  background  of  un- 
named persecutors  is  'dimly  seen.  The  description 
moves  altogether  in  the  region  of  physical  violence,  and 
that  violence  is  more  than  symbol. 


vs.  4-6]    THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  101 

It  is  no  mere  coincidence  that  the  story  of  the  Passion 
reproduces  so  many  of  the  details  of  the  prophecy,  for, 
although  the  fulfilment  of  the  latter  does  not  depend  on 
such  coincidences,  they  are  not  to  be  passed  by  as  of  no 
importance.  Former  generations  made  too  much  of  the 
physical  sufferings  of  Jesus;  is  not  this  generation  in 
danger  of  making  too  little  of  them? 

The  issue  of  the  Servant's  sufferings  is  presented  in  a 
startling  paradox.  His  bruises  and  weales  are  the 
causes  of  our  being  healed.  His  chastisement  brings 
our  peace.  Surely  it  is  very  hard  work,  and  needs 
much  forcing  of  words  and  much  determination  not  to 
see  what  is  set  forth  in  as  plain  light  as  can  be  con- 
ceived, to  strike  the  idea  of  atonement  out  of  this  proph- 
ecy. It  says  as  emphatically  as  words  can  say,  that  we 
have  by  our  sins  deserved  stripes,  that  the  Servant  bears 
the  stripes  which  we  have  deserved,  and  that  therefore 
we  do  not  bear  them. 

III.  The  deepest  ground  of  the  Servant's  sufferings. 

The  sad  picture  of  humanity  painted  in  that  simile  of 
a  scattered  flock  lays  stress  on  the  universality  of  trans- 
gression, on  its  divisive  effect,  on  the  solitude  of  sin, 
and  on  its  essential  characteristic  as  being  self-willed 
rejection  of  control.  But  the  isolation  caused  by  trans- 
gression is  blessedly  counteracted  by  the  concentration 
of  the  sin  of  all  on  the  Servant.  Men  fighting  for  their 
own  hand,  and  living  at  their  own  pleasure,  are  work- 
ing to  the  disruption  of  all  sweet  bonds  of  fellowship. 
But  God,  in  knitting  together  all  the  black  burdens  into 
one,  and  loading  the  Servant  with  that  tremendous 
weight,  is  preparing  for  the  establishment  of  a  more 
blessed  unity,  in  experience  of  the  healing  brought  about 
by  His  sufferings. 


102  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  liii. 

Can  one  man's  'iniquity,'  as  distinguished  from  the 
consequences  of  iniquity,  be  made  to  press  upon  any 
other?  It  is  a  familiar  and  not  very  profound  objection 
to  the  Christian  Atonement  that  guilt  cannot  be  trans- 
ferred. True,  but  in  the  first  place,  Christ's  nature 
stands  in  vital  relations  to  every  man,  of  such  intimacy 
that  what  is  impossible  between  two  of  us  is  not  impos- 
sible between  Christ  and  any  one  of  us;  and,  secondly, 
much  in  His  life,  and  still  more  in  His  passion,  is  unin- 
telligible unless  the  black  mass  of  the  world's  sin  was 
heaped  upon  Him,  to  His  own  consciousness.  In  that 
dread  cry,  wrung  from  Him  as  He  hung  there  in  the 
dark,  the  consciousnesses  of  possessing  God  and  of 
having  lost  Him  are  blended  inextricably  and  inex- 
plicably. The  only  approach  to  an  explanation  of  it  is 
that  then  the  world's  sin  was  felt  by  Him,  in  all  its  ter- 
rible mass  and  blackness,  coming  between  Him  and 
God,  even  as  our  own  sins  come,  separating  us  from 
God.  That  grim  burden  not  only  came  on  Him,  but 
was  laid  on  Him  by  God.  The  same  idea  is  expressed 
by  the  prophet  in  that  awful  representation  and  by 
Jesus  in  that  as  awful  cry,  '  Why  hast  Thou  forsakeii 
Me?' 

The  prophet  constructs  no  theory  of  Atonement.  But 
no  language  could  be  chosen  that  would  more  plainly 
set  forth  the  fact  of  Atonement.  And  it  is  to  be  ob- 
served that,  so  far  as  this  prophecy  is  concerned,  the 
Servant's  sole  form  of  service  is  to  suffer.  He  is  not  a 
teacher,  an  example,  or  a  benefactor,  in  any  of  the 
other  ways  in  which  men  need  help.  His  work  is  to 
bear  our  griefs  and  be  bruised  for  our  healing. 


THE   SUFFEEING  SERVANT— III 

*  He  was  oppressed,  yet  He  humbled  Himself  and  opened  not  His  mouth ; 
as  a  lamb  that  is  led  to  the  slaughter,  and  as  a  sheep  that  before  her  shear- 
ers is  dumb;  yea,  He  opened  not  His  mouth.  8.  By  oppression  and  judg- 
ment He  was  talcen  away;  and  as  for  His  generation,  who  among  them 
considered  that  He  was  cut  off  out  of  the  land  of  the  living?  for  the  trans- 
gression of  my  people  was  He  stricken.  9.  And  they  made  His  grave  with 
the  wicked,  and  with  the  rich  in  His  death;  although  He  had  done  no  vio- 
lence, neither  was  any  deceit  in  His  mouth.' — Isaiah  liii.  7-9.    R.  V. 

In  this  section  of  the  prophecy  we  pass  from  contem- 
plating the  sufferings  inflicted  on  the  Servant  to  the 
attitude  of  Himself  and  of  His  contemporaries  towards 
these,  His  patience  and  their  blindness.  To  these  is 
added  a  remarkable  reference  to  His  burial,  which 
strikes  one  at  first  sight  as  interrupting  the  continuity 
of  the  prophecy,  but  on  fuller  consideration  assumes 
great  significance. 

I.  The  unresisting  endurance  of  the  Servant. 

The  Revised  Version's  rendering  of  the  first  clause  is 
preferable  to  that  of  the  Authorised  Version.  'Afflict- 
ed '  would  be  little  better  than  tautology,  but  '  humbled 
Himself  '  strikes  the  keynote  of  the  verse,  which  dwells 
not  on  the  Servant's  afflictions,  but  on  His  bearing  un- 
der them.  Similarly,  the  pathetic  imagery  of  the  lamb 
led  and  the  sheep  dumb  gives  the  same  double  represen- 
tation, first  of  the  indignities,  and  [^next  of  His  demean- 
our in  enduring  them,  as  is  conveyed  in  '  He  was  op- 
pressed, yet  He  humbled  Himself.'  Unremonstrating, 
unresisting  endurance,  then,  is  the  point  emphasised  in 
the  lovely  metaphor. 

We  recall  the  fact  that  this  emphatically  reduplicated 
phrase  '  opened  not  His  mouth'  was  verbally  fulfilled  in 
our  Lord's  silence  before  each  of  the  three  authorities  to 
whom  He  was  presented,  before  the  Jewish  rulers,  be- 
fore Pilate,  and  before  Herod.     Only  when  adjured  by 

103 


104  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  liii. 

the  living  God  and  when  silence  would  have  been  tanta- 
mount to  withdrawal  of  His  claims,  did  He  speak  before 
the  Sanhedrin.  Only  when  silence  would  have  been 
taken  as  disowning  His  Kingship,  did  He  speak  before 
Pilate.  And  Herod,  who  had  no  right  to  question  Him, 
received  no  answer  at  all.  Jesus'  lips  were  opened  in 
witness  but  never  in  complaint  or  remonstrance.  No 
doubt,  the  prophecy  would  have  been  as  really  fulfilled 
though  there  had  been  no  such  majestic  silences,  for  its 
substance  is  patient  endurance,  not  mere  abstinence 
from  speech.  Still,  as  with  other  events  in  His  life, 
the  verbal  correspondence  with  prophetic  details  may 
help,  and  be  meant  to  help,  to  bring  out  more  clearly, 
for  purblind  eyes,  the  true  fulfilment.  So  we  may 
meditate  on  the  wonder  and  the  beauty  of  that  picture 
which  the  evangelists  draw,  and  which  the  world  has 
recognised,  with  whatever  differences  as  to  its  interpre- 
tation, as  the  most  perfect,  pathetic,  and  majestic  pic- 
ture of  meek  endurance  that  has  ever  been  painted. 

But  we  gather  only  the  most  superficial  of  its  lessons, 
if  that  is  all  that  we  find  to  say  about  it.  For  the  main 
point  for  us  to  lay  to  heart  is  not  merely  the  fact  of  that 
silent  submission,  but  the  motive  which  led  to  it.  He 
opened  not  His  mouth,  because  He  willingly  embraced 
the  Cross,  and  He  willingly  embraced  the  Cross  because 
He  loved  the  Father  and  would  do  His  will,  because  He 
loved  the  world  and  would  be  its  Saviour. 

That  touching  imagery  of  the  dumb  lamb  has  mani- 
fold felicities  and  significances  beyond  serving  to  figure 
meekness.  And  we  are  not  forcing  unintended  mean- 
ings into  a  mere  piece  of  poetic  imagination  when  we 
note  how  remarkably  the  metaphor  links  on  to  that  of 
strayed  sheep  in  the  preceding  verse,  or  when  we  van- 


vs.  7-9]     THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  105 

ture  to  recall  John  Baptist's  first  proclamation  of  the 
Lamb  of  God,  and  Peter's  quotation  of  this  very- 
prophecy,  and  the  continual  recurrence  in  the  Apoca- 
lypse of  the  name  of  The  Lamb  as  the  title  of  honour  of 
'  Him  who  sitteth  on  the  throne. '  A  kind  of  nimbus  or 
aureole  shines  round  the  humble  figure  as  drawn  by  the 
prophet. 

II.  The  misunderstood  end  of  the  Servant's  life. 

The  difficult  expressions  of  verse  8  are  rendered  in  the 
Revised  Version  with  clearness  and  so  as  to  yield  a  pro- 
found meaning.  We  may  note  that  here,  for  the  first 
time,  is  spoken  out  that  end  to  which  all  the  preceding 
description  of  sufferings  has  been  leading  up,  and  yet 
it  is  spoken  with  a  kind  of  solemn  reticence,  very  im- 
pressive. The  Servant  is  '  taken  away, '  '  cut  off, ' 
'  stricken. '  Not  yet  is  the  grim  word  '  death  '  plainly 
uttered ;  that  comes  in  the  next  verse,  only  after  the 
Servant's  death  is  supposed  to  be  past.  The  three  words 
suggest,  at  all  events,  though  in  half-veiled  language, 
violence  and  suddenness  in  the  Servant's  fate.  Who 
were  the  agents  who  took  Him,  cut  Him  off  and  struck 
Him,  is  left  in  impressive  obscurity.  But  the  fact  that 
His  death  was  a  judicial  murder  is  set  in  clear  light. 
Whether  we  read  *  By  '  or  '  From — oppression  and 
judgment  He  was  taken  away, '  the  forms  of  law  are 
represented  as  wrested  to  bring  about  flagrant  injustice. 
And,  if  it  were  my  object  now  to  defend  the  Messianic 
interpretation,  one  might  ask  where  any  facts  corre- 
sponding to  this  element  in  the  picture  are  to  be  found 
in  regard  to  either  the  national  Israel,  or  the  Israel 
within  the  nation. 

That  unjust  death  by  illegal  violence  under  the  mask 
of  law   was,   further,    wholly  misunderstood    by   '  His 


106  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      Cch.  liii. 

generation. '  We  need  not  do  more  than  remark  in  a 
sentence  how  that  feature  corresponds  with  the  facts  in 
regard  to  Jesus,  and  ask  whether  it  does  so  on  any  other 
theory  of  '  fulfilment. '  Neither  friends  nor  foes  had 
even  the  faintest  conception  of  what  the  death  of  Jesus 
was  or  was  to  effect.  And  it  is  worth  while  to  dwell 
for  a  moment  on.  this,  because  we  are  often  told  that 
there  is  no  trace  of  the  doctrine  of  an  atoning  sacrifice 
in  the  Gospels,  and  the  inference  is  drawn  that  it  was 
an  afterthought  of  the  apostles,  and  therefore  to  be  set 
aside  as  an  excrescence  on  Christianity  according  to 
Christ.  The  silence  of  Jesus  on  that  subject  is  exag- 
gerated ;  but  certainly  no  thought  of  His  being  the  Sac- 
rifice for  the  sins  of  the  world  was  in  the  minds  of  the 
sad  watchers  by  the  Cross,  nor  for  many  a  day  there- 
after. Is  it  not  worth  noting  that  precisely  such  a 
blindness  to  the  meaning  of  His  death  had  been  prophe- 
sied eight  hundred  years  before? 

But  the  reason  why  this  feature  is  introduced  seems 
mainly  to  be  to  underscore  the  lesson,  that  those  who 
exercised  the  violence  which  hurried  the  Servant  from 
the  land  of  the  living  were  blind  instruments  of  a  higher 
power.  And  may  we  not  also  see  in  it  a  suggestion  of 
the  great  solitude  of  sorrow  in  which  the  Servant  was 
to  die,  even  as  He  had  lived  in  it?  Misapprehended  and 
despised  He  lived,  misapprehended  He  died.  Jesus  was 
the  loneliest  man  that  ever  breathed  human  breath.  He 
gave  up  His  breath  in  a  more  awful  solitude  than  ever 
isolated  any  other  dying  man.  Utterly  solitary,  He  died 
that  none  of  us  need  ever  face  death  alone. 

III.  The  Servant's  Grave. 

Following  on  the  mystery  of  the  uncomprehended 
death  comes  the  enigma  of  the  burial.     The  words  are 


vs.  7  9]     THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  107 

an  enigma,  but  they  seem  meaningless  on  any  hypothe- 
sis but  the  Messianic  one.  As  they  stand,  they  assert 
that  unnamed  persons  gave  Him  a  grave  with  the 
wicked,  as  they  would  do  by  putting  Him  to  death 
under  strained  forms  of  law,  and  that  then,  somehow, 
the  criminal  destined  to  be  buried  with  other  criminals 
in  a  dishonoured  grave  was  laid  in  a  tomb  with  the  rich. 
It  seems  a  singularly  minute  trait  to  find  place  in  such 
a  prophecy.  The  remarks  already  made  as  to  similar 
minute  correspondences  in  details  of  the  prophecy  with 
purely  external  facts  in  Christ's  life  need  not  be  re- 
peated now.  One  does  not  see  that  it  is  a  self-evident 
axiom  needing  only  to  be  enunciated  in  order  to  be 
accepted,  that  such  minute  prophecies  are  beneath  the 
dignity  of  revelation.  It  might  rather  seem  that,  as 
one  element  in  prophecy,  they  are  eminently  valuable. 
The  smaller  the  detail,  the  more  remarkable  the  previ- 
sion and  the  more  striking  the  fulfilment.  For  a  keen- 
sighted  man  may  forecast  tendencies  and  go  far  to  an- 
ticipate events  on  the  large  scale,  but  only  God  can  fore- 
see trifles.  The  difficulty  in  which  this  prediction  of 
the  Servant's  grave  being  '  with  the  rich  '  places  those 
who  reject  the  Messianic  reference  of  the  prophecy  to 
our  Lord  may  be  measured  by  the  desperate  attempts 
to  evade  it  by  suggesting  other  readings,  or  by  making 
'  rich  '  to  be  synonymous  with  '  wicked. '  The  words  as 
they  stand  have  a  clear  and  worthy  meaning  on  one  in- 
terpretation, and  we  even  venture  to  say,  on  one  inter- 
pretation only,  namely,  that  they  refer  to  the  reverent 
laying  of  the  body  of  the  Lord  in  the  new  tomb  belong- 
ing to  '  a  certain  rich  man  from  Arimathea,  named 
Joseph. ' 

If  in  the  latter  clause  of  verse  9  we  render  '  Because  ' 


108  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  liii. 

rather  than  '  Although,'  we  get  the  thought  that  the 
burial  was  a  sign  that  the  Servant,  slain  as  a  criminal, 
yet  was  not  a  criminal.  The  criminals  were  either  left 
unburied  or  disgraced  by  promiscuous  interment  in  an 
unclean  place.  But  that  body  reverently  bedewed  with 
tears,  wrapped  in  fine  linen  clean  and  white,  softly  laid 
down  by  loving  hands,  watched  by  love  stronger  than 
death,  lay  in  fitting  repose  as  the  corpse  of  a  King  till 
He  came  forth  as  a  Conqueror.  So  once  more  the  domi- 
nant note  is  struck,  and  this  part  of  the  prophecy  closes 
with  the  emphatic  repetition  of  the  sinlessness  of  the 
Suffering  Servant,  which  makes  His  sufferings  a  deep 
and  bewildering  mystery,  unless  they  were  endured  be- 
cause of  '  our  transgressions. ' 

THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT— IV 

'It  pleased  the  Lord  to  bruise  Him;  He  hath  put  Him  to  grief:  when 
Thou  shalt  make  His  soul  an  offering  for  sin,  He  shall  see  His  seed,  He  shall 
prolong  His  days,  and  the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  shall  prosper  in  His  hand.' 
— Isaiah  liii.  10. 

We  have  seen  a  distinct  progress  of  thought  in  the  pre- 
ceding verses.  There  was  first  the  outline  of  the  sor- 
rows and  rejection  of  the  Servant;  second,  the  profound 
explanation  of  these  as  being  for  us ;  third,  the  suffer- 
ings, death  and  burial  of  the  Servant. 

We  have  followed  Him  to  the  grave.  What  more 
can  there  be  to  be  said?  Whether  the  Servant  of  the 
Lord  be  an  individual  or  a  collective  or  an  ideal,  surely 
all  fitness  of  metaphor,  all  reality  of  fact  would  require 
that  His  work  should  be  represented  as  ending  with  His 
life,  and  that  what  might  follow  His  burial  should  be  the 
influence  of  His  memory,  the  continued  operation  of  the 
principles  He  had  set  agoing  and  so  on,  but  nothing  more. 

Now  observe  that,  however  we  may  explain  the  fact, 


V.  10]       THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  109 

this  is  the  fact  to  be  explained,  that  there  is  a  whole  sec- 
tion, this  closing  one,  devoted  to  the  celebration  of  His 
work  after  His  death  and  burial,  and,  still  more  remark- 
able, that  the  prophecy  says  nothing  about  His  activity 
on  the  world  till  after  death.  In  all  the  former  portion 
there  is  not  a  syllable  about  His  doing  anything,  only 
about  His  suffering ;  and  then  when  He  is  dead  He  be- 
gins to  work.  That  is  the  subject  of  these  last  three 
verses,  and  it  would  be  proper  to  take  them  all  for  our 
consideration  now,  but  for  two  reasons,  one,  because  of 
their  great  fulness  and  importance,  and  one  because,  as 
you  will  observe,  the  two  latter  verses  are  a  direct  ad- 
dress of  God's  concerning  the  Servant.  The  prophetic 
words,  spoken  as  in  his  own  person,  end  with  verse  10, 
and,  catching  up  their  representations,  expanding,  de- 
fining, glorifying  them,  comes  the  solemn  thunder  of 
the  voice  of  God.  I  now  deal  only  with  the  prophet's 
vision  of  the  work  of  the  Servant  of  the  Lord. 

One  other  preliminary  remark  is  that  the  work  of  the 
Servant  after  death  is  described  in  these  verses  with 
constant  and  very  emphatic  reference  to  His  previous 
sufferings.  The  closeness  of  connection  between  these 
two  is  thus  thrown  into  great  prominence. 

I.  The  mystery  of  God's  treatment  of  the  sinless  Ser- 
vant. 

The  first  clause  is  to  be  read  in  immediate  connection 
with  the  preceding  verse.  The  Servant  was  of  absolute 
sinlessness,  and  yet  the  Divine  Hand  crushed  and 
bruised  Him.  Certainly,  if  we  think  of  the  vehemence 
of  prophetic  rebukes,  and  of  the  standing  doctrine  of  the 
Old  Testament  that  Israel  was  punished  for  its  sin,  we 
shall  be  slow  to  believe  that  this  picture  of  the  Sinless 
One,  smitten  for  the  sins  of  others,  can  have  reference 


110  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  liii. 

to  the  nation  in  any  of  its  parts,  or  to  any  one  man. 
However  other  poetry  may  lament  over  innocent  suffer- 
ers, the  Old  Testament  always  takes  the  ground :  '  Our 
iniquities,  like  the  wind,  have  carried  us  away.'  But 
mark  that  here,  however  understood,  the  prophet  paints 
a  figure  so  sinless  that  God's  bruising  Him  is  an  out- 
standing wonder  and  riddle,  only  to  be  solved  by  regard- 
ing these  bruises  as  the  stripes  by  which  our  sins  were 
healed,  and  by  noting  that  '  the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  '  is 
carried  on  through  Him,  after  and  through  His  death. 
What  conceivable  application  have  such  representations 
except  to  Jesus?     We  note,  then,  here : — 

1.  The  solemn  truth  that  His  sufferings  were  divinely 
inflicted.  That  is  a  truth  complementary  to  the  other 
views  in  the  prophecy,  according  to  which  these  suffer- 
ings are  variously  regarded  as  either  inflicted  by  men 
('  By  oppression  and  judgment  He  was  taken  away  ')  or 
drawn  on  Him  by  His  own  sacrificial  act  {'  His  soul  shall 
make  an  offering  for  sin ').  It  was  the  divine  counsel 
that  used  men  as  its  instruments,  though  they  were 
none  the  less  guilty.  The  hands  that  '  crucified  and 
slew  '  were  no  less  '  the  hands  of  lawless  men,'  because 
it  was  '  the  determinate  counsel  and  foreknowledge  of 
God  '  that  '  delivered  Him  up.' 

But  a  still  deeper  thought  is  in  these  words.  For  we 
can  scarcely  avoid  seeing  in  them  a  glimpse  into  that  dim 
region  of  eclipse  and  agony  of  soul  from  which,  as  from  a 
cave  of  darkness,  issued  that  last  cry :  '  Eloi,  Eloi,  lama 
sabacthani?  '  The  bruises  inflicted  by  the  God,  who  made 
to  meet  on  Him  the  iniquities  of  us  all,  were  infinitely 
more  severe  than  the  weales  of  the  soldiers'  rods,  or  the 
wounds  of  the  nails  that  pierced  His  hands  and  feet. 

2.  The  staggering  mystery  of  His  sinlessness  and 
sufferings. 


V.  10]         THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT         111 

The  world  has  been  full  from  of  old  of  stories  of  good- 
ness tortured  and  evil  exalted,  which  have  drawn  tears 
and  softened  hearts,  but  which  have  also  bewildered 
men  who  would  fain  believe  in  a  righteous  Governor 
and  loving  Father.  But  none  of  these  have  cast  so 
black  a  shadow  of  suspicion  on  the  government  of  the 
world  by  a  good  God  as  does  the  fate  of  Jesus,  unless  it 
is  read  in  the  light  of  this  prophecy.  Standing  at  the 
cross,  faith  in  God's  goodness  and  providence  can 
scarcely  survive,  unless  it  rises  to  be  faith  in  the  aton- 
ing sacrifice  of  Him  who  was  wounded  there  for  our 
transgressions. 

II.  The  Servant's  work  in  His  sufferings. 

The  margin  of  the  Eevised  Version  gives  the  best  ren- 
dering— '  His  soul  shall  make  an  offering  for  sin.'  The 
word  employed  for  '  offering  '  means  a  trespass  offering, 
and  carries  us  at  once  back  to  the  sacrificial  system. 
The  trespass  offering  was  distinguished  from  other 
offerings.  The  central  idea  of  it  seems  to  have  been  to 
represent  sin  or  guilt  as  debt,  and  the  sacrifice  as  mak- 
ing compensation.  We  must  keep  in  view  the  variety 
of  ideas  embodied  in  His  sacrifice,  and  how  all  corre- 
spond to  realities  in  our  wants  and  spiritual  experience. 

Now  there  are  three  points  here : — 

a.  The  representation  that  Christ's  death  is  a  sacri- 
fice. Clearly  connecting  with  whole  Mosaic  system — 
and  that  in  the  sense  of  a  trespass  offering.  Christ 
seems  to  quote  this  verse  in  John  x.  15,  when  He  speaks 
of  laying  down  His  life,  and  when  He  declares  that  He 
came  to  '  give  His  life  a  ransom  for  many. '  At  any 
rate  here  is  the  great  word,  sacrifice,  proclaimed  for  the 
first  time  in  connection  with  Messiah.  Here  the  prophet 
interprets  the  meaning  of  all  the  types  and  shadows  of 
the  law. 


im  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  liii. 

That  sacrificial  system  bore  witness  to  deep  wants  of 
men's  souls,  and  prophesied  of  One  in  whom  these  were 
all  met  and  satisfied. 

b.  His  voluntary  surrender. 

He  is  sacrifice,  but  He  is  Priest  also.  His  soul  makes 
the  offering,  and  His  soul  is  the  offering  and  offers  itself 
in  concurrence  with  the  Divine  Will.  It  is  difficult  and 
necessary  to  keep  that  double  aspect  in  view,  and  never 
to  think  of  Jesus  as  an  unwilling  Victim,  nor  of  God  as 
angry  and  needing  to  be  appeased  by  blood. 

c.  The  thought  that  the  true  meaning  of  His  suffer- 
ings is  only  reached  when  we  contemplate  the  effects 
that  have  flowed  from  them.  The  pleasure  of  the  Lord 
in  bruising  Him  is  a  mystery  until  we  see  how  pleasure 
of  the  Lord  prospers  in  the  hand  of  the  Crucified. 

III.  The  work  of  the  Servant  after  death. 

Surely  this  paradox,  so  baldly  stated,  is  meant  to  be 
an  enigma  to  startle  and  to  rouse  curiosity.  This  dead 
Servant  is  to  see  of  the  travail  of  His  soul,  and  to  pro- 
long His  days.  All  the  interpretations  of  this  chapter 
which  refuse  to  see  Jesus  in  it  shiver  on  this  rock. 
What  a  contrast  there  is  between  platitudes  about  the 
spirit  of  the  nation  rising  transformed  from  its  grave  of 
captivity  (which  was  only  very  partially  the  case),  and 
the  historical  fulfilment  in  Jesus  Christ!  Here,  at  any 
rate,  hundreds  of  years  before  His  Resurrection,  is  a 
word  that  seems  to  point  to  such  a  fact,  and  to  rne  it 
appears  that  all  fair  interpretacion  is  on  the  side  of  the 
Messianic  reference. 

Note  the  singularity  of  special  points. 

a.  Having  died,  the  Servant  sees  His  offspring. 

The  sacrifice  of  Christ  is  the  great  power  which  draws 
men  to  Him,  and  moves  to  repentance,  faith,  love.     His 


V.  10]       THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  113 

death  was  the  communication  of  life.  Nowhere  else  in 
the  world's  history  is  the  teacher's  death  the  beginning 
of  His  gathering  of  pupils,  and  not  only  has  the  dead 
Servant  children,  but  He  sees  them.  That  representa- 
tion is  expressive  of  the  mutual  intercourse,  strange  and 
deep,  whereby  we  feel  that  He  is  truly  with  us,  '  Jesus 
Christ,  whom  having  not  seen  we  love. ' 

b.  Having  died,  the  Servant  prolongs  His  days. 

He  lives  a  continuous  life,  without  an  end,  for  ever. 
The  best  commentary  is  the  word  which  John  heard, 
as  he  felt  the  hand  of  the  Christ  laid  on  his  prostrate 
form:  '  I  became  dead,  and  lo,  I  am  alive  for  evermore.' 

c.  Having  died,  the  Servant  carries  into  effect  the 
divine  purposes. 

'  Prosper  '  implies  progressive  advancement.  Christ's 
Sacrifice  carried  out  the  divine  pleasure,  and  by  His 
Sacrifice  the  divine  pleasure  is  further  carried  out. 

If  Christ  is  the  naeans  of  carrying  out  the  divine  pur- 
pose, consider  what  this  implies  of  divinity  in  His  na- 
ture, of  co'HPespondence  between  His  will  and  the  divine. 

But  Jesus  not  only  carries  into  effect  the  divine  pur- 
pose as  a  consequence  of  a  past  act,  but  by  His  present 
energy  this  dead  man  is  a  living  power  in  the  world  to- 
day.    Is  He  not  ? 

The  sole  explanation  of  the  vitality  of  Christianity,  and 

the  sole  reason  which  makes  its  message  a  gospel  to  any 

soul,  is  Christ's  death  for  the  world  and  present  life  in  the 

world. 

THE   SUFFERING  SERVANT— V 

'He  shall  see  of  the  travail  of  His  soul,  and  shall  be  satisfied:  by  His 
knowledge  shall  My  righteous  servant  justify  many;  and  He  shall  bear 
their  iniquities.' — Isaiah  liii.  11. 

These  are  all  but  the  closing  words  of  this  great  proph- 
ecy, and  are  the  fitting  crown  of  all  that  has  gone  be- 

VOL.  II.  H 


114  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  liii. 

fore.  We  have  been  listening  to  the  voice  of  a  member 
of  the  race  to  whom  the  Servant  of  the  Lord  belonged, 
whether  we  limit  that  to  the  Jewish  people  or  include  in 
it  all  humanity.  That  voice  has  been  confessing  for  the 
speaker  and  his  brethren  their  common  misapprehen- 
sions of  the  Servant,  their  blindness  to  the  meaning  of 
His  sufferings  and  the  mystery  of  His  death.  It  has 
been  proclaiming  the  true  significance  of  these  as  now 
he  had  learned  them,  and  has  in  verse  10  touched  the 
mystery  of  the  reward  and  triumph  of  the  Servant. 

That  note  of  His  glory  and  coronation  is  caught  up  in 
the  two  closing  verses,  which,  in  substance,  are  the  con- 
tinuation of  the  idea  of  verse  10.  But  this  identity  of 
substance  makes  the  variety  of  form  the  more  emphatic. 
Observe  the  '  My  Servant '  of  verse  11,  and  the  '  1  will 
divide  '  of  verse  12.  These  oblige  us  to  take  this  as  the 
voice  of  God.  The  confession  and  belief  of  earth  is 
hushed,  that  the  recognition  and  the  reward  of  the  Ser- 
vant may  be  declared  from  heaven.  An  added  solem- 
nity is  thus  given  to  the  words,  and  the  prophecy  comes 
round  again  to  the  keynote  on  which  it  started  in  chap- 
ter Hi.  13,  '■My  Servant.'  Notice,  too,  how  the  same 
characteristic  is  here  as  in  verse  10 — that  the  recapitu- 
lation of  the  sufferings  is  almost  equally  prominent  with 
the  description  of  the  reward.  The  two  are  so  woven 
together  that  no  power  can  part  them.  We  may  take 
these  two  verses  as  setting  forth  mainly  two  things — the 
divine  promise  that  the  Servant  shall  give  righteousness 
to  many,  and  the  divine  promise  that  the  Servant  shall 
conquer  many  for  Himself. 

As  to  the  exposition,  '  of  '  here  is  probably  casual,  not 
partitive,  as  the  Authorised  Version  has  it ;  '  travail '  is 
not  to  be  understood  in  the  sense  of  childbirth,  but  of 


V.  11]       THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  115 

toil  and  suffering;  'soul'  is  equivalent  to  life.  This 
fruit  of  His  soul's  travail  is  further  defined  in  the  words 
which  follow.  The  great  result  which  will  be  beheld  by 
Him  and  will  fill  and  content  His  heart  is  that  '  by  His 
knowledge  He  shall  justify  many.'  'By  His  knowl- 
edge '  certainly  means,  by  the  knowledge  of  Him  on  the 
part  of  others.  The  phrase  might  be  taken  either  objec- 
tively or  subjectively,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  only  the 
former  yields  an  adequate  sense,  '  My  righteous  ser- 
vant '  is  scarcely  emphatic  enough.  The  words  in  the 
original  stand  in  an  unusual  order,  which  might  be  rep- 
resented by  '  the  righteous  one,  My  servant, '  and  is  in- 
tended to  put  emphasis  on  the  Servant's  righteousness, 
as  well  as  to  suggest  the  connection  between  His  right- 
eousness and  His  '  justifying, '  in  virtue  of  His  being 
righteous.  '  Justify  '  is  an  unusual  form,  and  means  to 
procure  for,  or  impart  righteousness  to.  '  Tlie  many ' 
has  stress  on  the  article,  and  is  the  antithesis  not  to  all, 
but  to  few.  We  might  render  it  '  the  masses, '  an  in- 
definite expression,  which  if  not  declaring  universality, 
approaches  very  near  to  it,  as  in  Romans  v.  19  and  Mat- 
thew xxvi.  28.  '  He  shall  bear,'  a  future  referring  to 
the  Servant  in  a  state  of  exaltation,  and  pointing  to  His 
continuous  work  after  death.  This  bearing  is  the  root 
of  our  righteousness. 

We  may  put  the  thoughts  here  in  a  definite  order, 
I,  The  great  work  which  the  Servant  carries  on. 
It  consists  in  giving  or  imparting  righteousness.  It 
seems  to  me  that  it  is  out  of  place  to  be  too  narrow  here 
in  interpreting  so  as  to  draw  distinctions  between  right- 
eousness imparted  and  righteousness  bestowed.  We 
should  rather  take  the  general  idea  of  making  right- 
eous, making,  in  fact,  like  Himself. 


116  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  liii. 

Note  that  this  is  the  work  which  is  Christ's  character- 
istic one.  All  thoughts  of  His  blessings  to  the  world 
which  omit  that  are  imperfect. 

II.  The  preparation  for  that  making  of  us  righteous. 

The  roots  of  our  being  made  righteous  by  the  right- 
eous Servant  are  found  in  His  bearing  our  sins.  His 
sin- bearing  work  is  basis  of  our  righteousness.  Christ 
justifies  men  by  giving  to  them  His  own  righteousness, 
and  taking  in  turn  their  sins  on  Himself  that  He  may 
expiate  them. 

Not  only  *  did  He  bear  our  sins  in  His  own  body  on 
the  tree,'  but  He  will  bear  them  in  His  exaltation  to 
the  Throne,  and  only  because  He  continuously  and 
eternally  does  so  are  we  justified  on  earth  and  shall  we 
be  sanctified  in  heaven. 

III.  The  condition  on  which  He  imparts  righteousness, 
'  His  knowledge, '  which  is  to  be  taken  in  the  profound 

Biblical  sense  as  including  not  only  understanding  but 
experience  also. 

Parallels  are  found  in  '  This  is  life  eternal  to  know 
Thee'  (John  xvii.  3),  and  in  '  That  I  may  know  Him  ' 
(Phil.  iii.  10).  So  this  prophecy  comes  very  near  to  the 
New  Testameht  proclamation  of  righteousness  by  faith. 

IV.  The  grand  sweep  of  the  Servant's  work. 

*  The  many '  is  indefinite,  and  its  very  indefiniteness 
approximates  it  to  universality.  A  shadowy  vision  of 
a  great  multitude  that  no  man  can  number  stretches 
out,  as  to  the  horizon,  before  the  prophet.  How  many 
they  are  he  knows  not.  He  knows  that  they  are  nu- 
merous enough  to  '  satisfy '  the  Servant  for  all  His 
sufferings.  He  knows,  too,  that  there  is  no  limit  to  the 
happy  crowd  except  that  which  is  set  by  the  necessary 
condition   of  joining  the  bands    of   '  the    justified ' — 


V.  11]       THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  117 

namely,  '  the  knowledge  of  Him. '  They  who  receive 
the  benefits  which  the  Servant  has  died  and  will  live  to 
bring  cannot  be  few ;  they  may  be  all.  If  any  are  shut 
out,  they  are  self -excluded. 

V.  The  Servant's  satisfaction. 

It  may  be  that  the  word  employed  means  '  full, ' 
rather  than  '  content, '  but  the  latter  idea  can  scarcely 
be  altogether  absent  from  it.  We  have,  then,  the  great 
hope  that  the  Servant,  gazing  on  the  results  of  His 
sufferings,  will  be  content,  content  to  have  borne  them, 
content  with  what  they  have  effected. 

*  The  glory  dies  not  and  the  grief  is  past. ' 

And  the  '  grief  '  has  had  for  fruit  not  only  *  glory  ' 
gathering  round  the  thorn-pierced  head,  but  reflected 
glory  shining  on  the  brows  of  '  the  many, '  whom  He 
has  justified  and  sanctified  by  their  experience  of  Him 
and  His  power.  The  creative  week  ended  with  the 
'  rest '  of  the  Creator,  not  because  His  energy  was  tired 
and  needed  repose,  but  because  He  had  fully  carried  out 
His  purpose,  and  saw  the  perfected  idea  embodied  in  a 
creation  that  was  '  very  good.'  The  redemptive  work 
ends  with  the  Servant's  satisfied  contemplation  of  the 
many  whom  He  has  made  like  Himself,  His  better  crea- 
tion. 

THE  SUFFERING   SERVANT— VI 

'  Therefore  will  I  di^^de  Him  a  portion  with  the  great,  and  He  shall  di\ade 
the  spoil  with  the  strong;  because  He  hath  poured  out  His  soul  unto  death: 
and  was  numbered  with  the  transgressors ;  and  He  bare  the  sins  of  many, 
and  made  intercession  for  the  transgressors.' — Isaiah  liii.  12. 

The  first  clause  of  this  verse  is  somewhat  difficult. 
There  are  two  ways  of  understanding  it.  One  is  that 
adopted  in  A.  V.,  according  to  which  the  suffering  Ser- 
vant is  represented  as  equal  to  the  greatest  conquerors. 
He  is  to  be  as  gloriously  successful  in  His  victory  as 


118  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  liii. 

they  have  been  in  theirs.  But  there  are  two  very  strong 
objections  to  this  rendering — first,  that  it  takes  '  the 
many  '  in  the  sense  of  mighty,  thus  obscuring  the  iden- 
tity of  the  expression  here  and  in  the  previous  verse  and 
in  the  end  of  this  verse ;  and  secondly,  that  it  gives  a 
very  feeble  and  frigid  ending  to  the  prophecy.  It  does 
not  seem  a  worthy  close  simply  to  say  that  the  Servant 
is  to  be  like  a  Cyrus  or  a  Nebuchadnezzar  in  His  con- 
quests. 

The  other  rendering,  though  there  are  some  difficul- 
ties, is  to  be  preferred.  According  to  it '  the  many  '  and 
'  the  strong '  are  themselves  the  prey  or  spoil.  The 
words  might  be  read,  '  I  will  apportion  to  Him  the 
many,  and  He  shall  apportion  to  Himself  the  strong 
ones. ' 

This  retains  the  same  meaning  of  *  many '  for  the 
same  expression  throughout  the  context,  and  is  a  worthy 
ending  to  the  prophecy.  The  force  of  the  clause  is  then 
to  represent  the  suffering  Servant  as  a  conqueror,  lead- 
ing back  from  His  conquests  a  long  train  of  captives,  a 
rich  booty. 

Notice  some  points  about  this  closing  metaphor. 

Mark  its  singular  contrast  to  the  tone  of  the  rest  of 
the  prophecy.  Note  the  lowliness,  the  suffering,  the 
minor  key  of  it  all,  and  then,  all  at  once,  the  leap  up  to 
rapture  and  triumph.  The  special  form  of  the  meta- 
phor strikes  one  as  singular.  ■  Nothing  in  the  preceding 
context  even  remotely  suggests  it.  Even  the  previous 
clause  about  '  making  the  many  righteous  '  does  not  do 
much  to  prepare  the  way  for  it.  Whatever  be  our  ex- 
planation of  the  words,  it  must  be  one  that  does  full  jus- 
tice to  this  metaphor,  and  presents  some  conquering 
power  or  person,  whose  victories  are  brilliant  and  real 


V.  12]       THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  119 

enough  to  be  worthy  to  stand  at  the  close  of  such  a 
prophecy.  We  must  keep  in  mind,  too,  what  has  been 
remarked  on  the  two  previous  verses,  that  this  victori- 
ous campaign  and  growing  conquest  is  achieved  after 
the  Servant  is  dead.  That  is  a  paradox.  And  note 
that  the  strength  of  language  representing  His  activity 
can  scarcely  be  reconciled  with  the  idea  that  it  is  only 
the  post-mortem  influence  of  His  life  which  is  meant. 

Note,  too,  the  singular  blending  of  God's  power  and 
the  Servant's  own  activity  in  the  winning  of  this  ex- 
tended sovereignty.  Side  by  side  the  two  are  put.  The 
same  verb  is  used  in  order  to  emphasise  the  intended 
parallel.  '  I  will  divide, '  '  He  shall  divide. '  I  will  give 
Him — He  shall  conquer  for  Himself.  Eemember  the 
intense  vehemence  with  which  the  Old  Testament 
guards  the  absolute  supremacy  of  divine  power,  and 
how  strongly  it  always  puts  the  thought  that  God  is 
everything  and  man  nothing.  Look  at  the  contrast  of 
the  tone  when  a  human  conqueror,  whose  conquests  are 
the  result  of  God's  providence,  is  addressed  (xlv.  1-3). 
There  is  an  entire  suppression  of  his  personality,  not  a 
word  about  his  bravery,  his  military  genius,  or  anything 
in  him.  It  is  all  I,  J,  /.  Remember  how,  in  chapter 
X.,  one  of  the  sins  for  which  the  Assyrian  is  to  be  de- 
stroyed is  precisely  that  he  thought  of  his  victories  as 
due  to  his  own  strength  and  wisdom.  So  he  is  indig- 
nantly reminded  that  he  is  only  '  a  staff  in  Mine  hand,' 
the  axe  with  which  God  hewed  the  nations,  whereas 
here  the  voice  of  God  Himself  speaks,  and  gives  a 
strange  place  beside  Himself  to  the  will  and  power  of 
this  Conqueror.  This  feature  of  the  prophecy  should  be 
accounted  for  in  any  satisfactory  interpretation. 

Note,  too,  the  wide  sweep  of  the  Servant's  dominion. 


120  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  liii. 

which  carries  us  back  to  the  beginning  of  this  prophecy 
in  chapter  lii.  15,  where  we  hear  of  the  Servant  as 
'  sprinkling '  (or  startling ')  many  nations,  and  the 
'  kings  '  is  parallel  with  the  '  strong  '  in  this  verse.  No 
bounds  are  assigned  to  the  Servant's  conquests,  which 
are,  if  not  declared  to  be  universal,  at  least  indefinitely 
extended  and  striding  on  to  world-wide  empire. 

These  points  are  plainly  here.  I  do  not  dilate  upon 
them.  But  I  ask  whether  any  of  the  interpretations  of 
these  words,  except  one,  gives  adequate  force  to  them? 
Is  there  anything  in  the  history  of  the  restored  exiles 
which  corresponds  to  this  picture?  Even  if  you  admit 
the  violent  hypothesis  that  there  was  a  better  part  of  the 
nation,  so  good  that  the  national  sorrows  had  no  chas- 
tisement for  them,  and  the  other  violent  hypothesis  that 
the  devoutest  among  the  exiles  suffered  most,  and  the 
other  that  the  death  and  burial  and  resurrection  of  the 
Servant  only  mean  the  reformation  wrought  on  Israel 
by  captivity.  What  is  there  in  the  history  of  Israel 
which  can  be  pointed  at  as  the  conquest  of  the  world? 
Was  the  nation  that  bore  the  yokes  of  a  Ptolemy,  an 
Antiochus,  a  Herod,  a  Caesar,  the  fulfiller  of  this  dream 
of  world- conquest?  There  is  only  one  thing  which  can 
be  called  the  Jew  conquering  the  world.  It  is  that 
which,  as  I  believe,  is  meant  here,  viz.  Christ's  con- 
quest. Apart  from  that,  I  know  of  nothing  which 
would  not  be  ludicrously  disproportionate  if  it  were  al- 
leged as  fulfilment  of  this  glowing  prophecy. 

This  prophetic  picture  is  at  least  four  hundred  years 
before  Christ,  by  the  admission  of  those  who  bring  it 
lowest  down,  in  their  eagerness  to  get  rid  of  prophecy. 
The  life  of  Christ  does  correspond  to  it,  in  such  a  way 
that,  clause  by  clause,  it  reads  as  if  it  were  quite  as 


V.  12]       THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  121 

much  a  history  of  Jesus  as  a  prophecy  of  the  Servant. 
This  certainly  is  an  extraordinary  coincidence  if  it  be 
not  a  prophecy.  And  there  is  really  no  argument 
against  the  Messianic  interpretation,  except  dogmatic 
prejudice — '  there  cannot  be  prophecy. ' 

No  straining  is  needed  in  order  to  fit  this  great  pro- 
phetic picture  of  the  world-Conqueror  to  Jesus.  Even 
that,  at  first  sight  incongruous,  picture  of  a  victor  lead- 
ing long  lines  of  captives,  such  as  we  see  on  Assyrian 
slabs  and  Egyptian  paintings,  is  historically  true  of 
Him  who  '  leads  captivity  captive, '  and  is,  through  the 
ages,  winning  ever  fresh  victories,  and  leading  His  ene- 
mies, turned  into  lovers,  in  His  triumphal  progress. 
He,  and  He  only,  really  owns  men.  His  slaves  have 
made  real  self-surrenders  to  Him.  Other  conquerors 
may  imprison  or  load  with  irons  or  deport  to  other 
lands,  but  they  are  only  lords  of  bodies.  Jesus'  chains 
are  silken,  and  bind  hearts  that  are  proud  of  their 
bonds.  He  carries  off  His  free  prisoners  '  from  the 
power  of  darkness '  into  His  kingdom  of  light.  His 
slaves  rejoice  to  say,  '  I  am  not  my  own, '  and  he  only 
truly  possesses  himself  who  has  given  himself  away  to 
the  Conquering  Christ.  For  all  these  centuries  He  has 
been  conquering  hearts,  enthralling  and  thereby  libera- 
ting wills,  making  Himself  the  life  of  lives.  There  is 
nothing  else  the  least  like  the  bond  between  Jesus  and 
millions  who  never  saw  him.  Who  among  all  the  lead- 
ers of  thought  or  religious  teachers  has  been  able  to  im- 
press his  personality  on  others  and  to  dominate  them  in 
the  fashion  that  Jesus  has  done  and  is  doing  to-day? 
How  has  He  done  this  thing,  which  no  other  man  has 
been  able  in  the  least  to  do?  What  is  His  charm,  the 
secret  of  His  power?    The  prophet  has  no  doubt  what  it 


122  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  liii. 

is,  and  unfolds  it  to  us  with  a  significant  *'  For. '  We 
turn,  then,  to  the  prophetic  explanation  of  that  world- 
wide empire  and  note — 

II,  The  foundation  of  the  Servant's  dominion. 

That  explanation  is  given  in  four  clauses  which  fall 
into  two  pairs.  They  remarkably  revert  to  the  thought 
of  the  Servant's  sufferings,  but  in  how  different  a  tone 
these  are  now  spoken  of,  when  they  are  no  longer  re- 
garded as  the  results  of  man's  blind  failure  to  see  His 
beauty,  or  as  inflicted  by  the  mysterious  '  pleasure  of 
Jehovah, '  but  as  the  causes  of  His  triumph !  Echoes  of 
both  the  two  first  clauses  are  heard  from  the  lips  of  Je- 
sus. As  He  passed  beneath  the  tremulous  shadow  of 
the  olives  of  Gethsemane,  He  appealed  for  the  compan- 
ionship of  the  three,  by  an  all  but  solitary  revelation  of 
His  weakness  and  sorrow,  '  My  soul  is  exceeding  sor- 
rowful, even  unto  death ;  abide  ye  here  and  watch  with 
Me. '  And  even  more  distinctly  did  He  lay  His  hand  on 
this  prophecy  when  He  ended  all  His  words  in  the  upper 
room  with  ^  This  which  is  written  must  be  fulfilled  in 
Me,  And  He  was  reckoned  with  ' '  transgressors, ' ' '  May 
we  not  claim  Jesus  as  endorsing  the  Messianic  interpre- 
tation of  this  prophecy?  He  gazed  on  the  portrait 
painted  ages  before  that  night  of  sorrow,  and  saw  in  it 
His  own  likeness,  and  said.  That  is  meant  for  Me. 
Some  of  us  feel  that,  kenosis  or  no  kenosis,  He  is  the 
best  judge  of  who  is  the  original  of  the  prophet's  por- 
trait. 

The  two  final  clauses  are  separated  from  the  preced- 
ing by  the  emphatic  introduction  of  the  pronominal 
nominative,  and  cohere  closely  as  gathering  up  for  the 
last  time  all  the  description  of  the  Servant,  and  as  lay- 
ing broad  and  firm  the  basis  of  His  dominion,  in  the 


V.  12]       THE  SUFFERING  SERVANT  12S 

two  great  facts  which  sum  up  His  oflSce  and  between 
them  stretch  over  the  past  and  the  future.  '  He  bare 
the  sin  of  many,  and  maketh  intercession  for  the  trans- 
gressors. '  The  former  of  these  two  clauses  brings  up 
the  pathetic  picture  of  the  scapegoat  who  '  bore  upon 
him  all  their  iniquities  into  a  solitary  land. '  The  Ser- 
vant conquers  hearts  because  He  bears  upon  Him  the 
grim  burden  which  a  mightier  hand  than  Aaron's  has 
made  to  meet  on  His  head,  and  because  He  bears  it 
away.  The  ancient  ceremony,  and  the  prophet's  trans- 
ference of  the  words  describing  it  to  his  picture  of  the 
Servant  who  was  to  be  King,  floated  before  John  the 
Baptist,  when  he  pointed  his  brown,  thin  finger  at  Jesus 
and  cried :  '  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh 
away  the  sin  of  the  world.'  The  goat  had  borne  the 
sins  of  one  nation ;  the  prophet  had  extended  the  Ser- 
vant's ministry  indefinitely,  so  as  to  include  unnum- 
bered '  many  ' ;  John  spoke  the  universal  word,  '  the 
world.'     So  the  circles  widened. 

But  it  is  not  enough  to  bear  away  sins.  We  need 
continuous  help  in  the  present.  Our  daily  struggles, 
our  ever-felt  weakness,  all  the  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to, 
cry  aloud  for  a  mightier  than  we  to  be  at  our  sides.  So 
on  the  Servant's  bearing  the  sins  of  the  many  there  fol- 
lows a  continuous  act  of  priestly  intercession,  in  which, 
not  merely  by  prayer,  but  by  meritorious  and  prevailing 
intervention,  He  makes  His  own  the  cause  of  the  many 
whose  sins  He  has  borne. 

On  these  two  acts  His  dominion  rests.  Sacrifice  and 
Intercession  are  the  foundations  of  His  throne. 

The  empire  of  men's  hearts  falls  to  Him  because  of 
what  He  has  done  and  is  doing  for  them.  He  who  is  to 
possess  us  absolutely  must  give  Himself  to  us  utterly. 


124  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  liii. 

The  empire  falls  to  Him  who  supplies  men's  deepest 
need.  He  who  can  take  away  men's  sins  rules.  He 
who  can  effectually  undertake  men's  cause  will  be  their 
King. 

If  Jesus  is  or  does  anything  less  or  else,  He  will  not 
rule  men  for  ever.  If  He  is  but  a  Teacher  and  a  Guide, 
oblivion,  which  shrouds  all,  will  sooner  or  later  wrap. 
Him  in  its  misty  folds.  That  His  name  should  so  long 
have  resisted  its  influence  is  due  altogether  to  men  hav- 
ing believed  Him  to  be  something  else.  He  will  exer- 
cise an  everlasting  dominion  only  if  He  have  brought  in 
an  everlasting  righteousness.  He  will  sit  King  for  ever, 
if  and  only  if  He  is  a  priest  for  ever.  All  other  rule  is 
transient. 

A  remarkable  characteristic  of  this  entire  prophecy  is 
the  frequent  repetition  of  expressions  conveying  the  idea 
of  sufferings  borne  for  others.  In  one  form  or  another 
that  thought  occurs,  as  we  reckon,  eleven  times,  and  it 
is  especially  frequent  in  the  last  verses  of  the  chapter. 
Why  this  perpetual  harking  back  to  that  one  aspect? 
It  is  to  be  further  noticed  that  throughout  there  is  no 
hint  of  any  other  kind  of  work  which  this  Servant  had 
to  do.  He  fulfils  His  service  to  God  and  man  by  being 
bruised  for  men's  iniquities.  He  came  not  to  be  minis- 
tered unto  but  to  minister,  and  the  chief  form  of  His 
ministry  was  that  He  gave  His  life  a  ransom  for  the 
many.  He  came  not  to  preach  a  gospel,  but  to  die  that 
there  might  be  a  gospel  to  preach.  The  Cross  is  the 
centre  of  His  work,  and  by  it  He  becomes  the  Centre  of 
the  world. 

Look  once  more  at  the  sorrowful,  august  figure  that 
rose  before  the  prophet's  eye — with  its  strange  blending 
of  sinlessness  and  sorrow,   God's  approval  and   God's 


V.  12]         PASSING  AND  PERMANENT        125 

chastisement,  rejection  and  rule,  death  and  life,  abject 
humiliation  and  absolute  dominion.  Listen  to  the  last 
echoes  of  the  prophet's  voice  as  it  dies  on  our  ear — '  He 
bore  the  sins  of  the  many.'  And  then  hearken  how 
eight  hundred  years  after  another  voice  takes  up  the 
echoes — but  instead  of  pointing  away  down  the  centu- 
ries, points  to  One  at  his  side,  and  cries,  '  Behold  the 
Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world. ' 
Look  at  that  life,  that  death,  that  grave,  that  resurrec- 
tion, that  growing  dominion,  that  inexhaustible  inter- 
cession— and  say,  '  Of  whom  speaketh  the  prophet  this  ?  ' 
May  we  all  be  able  to  answer  with  clear  confidence, 
'  These  things  saith  Esaias  when  he  saw  His  glory  and 
spake  of  Him.''  May  we  all  take  up  the  ancient  confes- 
sion :  '  Surely  He  hath  borne  our  griefs  and  carried  our 
sorrows.  .  .  .  He  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions. 
He  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities,  the  chastisement  of 
our  peace  was  upon  Him,  and  with  His  stripes  we  are 
healed.' 

THE  PASSING  AND  THE  PERMANENT 

'  For  the  mountains  shall  depart,  and  the  hills  be  removed ;  but  My  kind- 
ness shall  not  depart  from  thee,  neither  shall  the  covenant  of  My  peace  be 
removed,  saith  the  Lord  that  hath  mercy  on  thee.' — Isaiah  liv.  10. 

There  is  something  of  music  in  the  very  sound  of  these 
words.  The  stately  march  of  the  grand  English  trans- 
lation lends  itself  with  wonderful  beauty  to  the  melody 
of  Isaiah's  words.  But  the  thought  that  lies  below 
them,  sweeping  as  it  does  through  the  w^hole  creation, 
and  parting  all  things  into  the  transient  and  eternal, 
the  mortal  and  immortal,  is  still  greater  than  the  music 
of  the  words.  These  are  removed;  this  abides.  And 
the  thing  in  God  which  abides  is  all-gentle  tenderness, 
that  strange  love  mightier  than  all  the  powers  of  Deity 


126  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  liv. 

beside,  permanent  with  the  permanence  of  His  change- 
less heart.  The  mountains  shall  depart,  the  emblems 
of  eternity  shall  crumble  and  change  and  pass,  and  the 
hills  be  removed;  but  this  immortal,  impalpable,  and, 
in  some  men's  minds,  fantastic  and  unreal  something, 
'  My  loving  kindness  and  the  covenant  of  My  peace, ' 
shall  outlast  them  all.  And  this  great  promise  is 
stamped  with  the  sign-manual  of  Heaven,  being  spoken 
by  the  Lord  that  hath  mercy  on  thee. ' 

So  then,  dear  friends,  I  think  I  shall  most  reveren- 
tially deal  with  these  words  if  I  handle  them  in  the  sim- 
plest possible  way,  and  think,  first  of  all,  of  that  great 
antithesis  that  is  set  before  us  here — what  passes  and 
what  abides;  and,  secondly,  draw  two  or  three  plain, 
homely  lessons  and  applications  from  the  thoughts  thus 
suggested. 

I.  First,  then,  we  have  to  deal  with  the  contrast  be- 
tween the  apparently  enduring  which  passes,  and  that 
which  truly  abides. 

'  The  mountains  depart,  the  hills  remove.  My  loving- 
kindness  shall  not  depart,  neither  shall  the  covenant  of 
My  peace  be  removed. '  Let  me  then  say  a  word  or  two 
about  that  first  thought — '  the  mountains  shall  depart. ' 
There  they  tower  over  the  plains,  looking  down  upon 
the  flat  valley  beneath  as  they  did  when  the  prophet 
spoke.  The  eternal  buttresses  of  the  hills  stand  to  the 
eyes  of  the  fleeting  generations  as  emblems  of  perma- 
nence, and  yet  winter  storms  and  summer  heats,  and  the 
slow  processes  of  decay  which  we  call  the  gnawing  of 
time,  are  ever  working  upon  them,  and  changing  their 
forms,  and  at  last  they  shall  pass.  Modern  science, 
whilst  it  has  all  but  incalculably  enlarged  our  concep- 
tions of  the  duration  of  the  material  universe,  empha- 


V.  10]       PASSING  AND  PERMANENT  127 

sises,  as  faith  alone  never  could,  the  thought  of  the  ulti- 
mate perishing  of  this  material  world.  For  geology 
tells  us  that  '  where  rears  the  cliff  there  rolled  the  sea, ' 
that  through  the  cycles  of  the  shifting  history  of  the 
world  there  have  been  elevations  and  depressions  so  that 
the  ancient  hills  in  many  places  are  the  newest  of  all 
things,  and  the  world's  form  has  changed  many  and 
many  a  time  since  first  it  circled  as  a  planet.  And  re- 
searches into  the  ultimate  constitution  of  matter  have 
taught  us  to  think  of  solids  and  liquids  and  gases,  as 
being  an  infinite  multitude  of  atoms  all  in  rapid  motion 
with  inconceivable  velocity,  and  have  shown  us  the  very 
atoms  in  the  act  of  breaking  up.  So  that  the  old  guess 
of  the  infancy  of  physical  science  which  divined  that 
'  all  things  are  in  a  state  of  flux  '  is  confirmed  by  its  last 
utterances.  Science  prophesies  too,  and  bids  us  expect 
that  the  earth  shall  one  day  become,  like  some  of  the 
stars,  a  burnt  out  mass  of  uniform  temperature,  incapa- 
ble of  change  or  of  sustaining  life,  and  shall  end  by  fall- 
ing into  the  diminished  sun,  and  so  the  old  word  will  be 
fulfilled  that  '  the  earth  and  the  works  that  are  therein 
shall  be  burnt  up. '  None  should  be  able  to  utter  the 
words  of  my  text,  '  The  mountains  shall  depart  and  the 
hills  be  removed,'  with  such  emphasis  of  certitude  as 
the  present  students  of  physical  science. 

But  our  text  does  not  stop  there.  It  brings  into  view 
the  transiency  of  the  transient,  in  order  to  throw  into 
greater  relief  and  prominence  the  perpetuity  of  the  abid- 
ing. If  we  had  nothing  abiding  beyond  this  perishable 
material  universe,  it  would  indeed  be  misery  to  exist. 
Life  would  be  not  only  insignificant  but  wretched,  and 
a  ghastly  irony,  a  meaningless,  aimless  ripple  on  the 
surface  of  that  silent,  shoreless  sea.     The  great  'But '  of 


128  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  liv. 

this  text  lifts  the  oppression  from  humaDity  with  which 
the  one-sided  truth  of  the  passing  of  all  the  Visible 
loads  it. 

And  so  turn  for  a  moment  to  the  other  side  of  this 
great  text.  There  stands  out  above  all  that  is  mortal, 
which,  although  it  counts  its  existence  by  millenniums, 
is  but  for  an  instant,  visible  to  the  eye  of  faith,  the  Great 
Spirit  who  moves  all  the  material  universe.  Himself  un- 
moved, and  lives  undiminished  by  creation,  and  undi- 
minished if  creation  were  swept  out  of  existenc.  Let 
that  which  may  pass,  pass ;  let  that  which  can  perish, 
perish;  let  the  mountains  crumble  and  the  hills  melt 
away;  beyond  the  smoke  and  conflagration,  and  rising 
high  above  destruction  and  chaos,  stands  the  calm 
throne  of  God,  with  a  loving  Heart  upon  it,  with  a  coun- 
cil of  peace  and  purpose  of  mercy  for  you  and  for  me, 
the  creatures  of  a  day  indeed,  but  who  are  to  live  when 
the  days  shall  cease  to  be.  '  My  kindness! '  What  a 
wonderful  word  that  is,  so  far  above  all  the  cold  delusion 
of  so-called  theism!  '  My  kindness! '  the  tender-hearted- 
ness of  an  infinite  love,  the  abounding  favour  of  the 
Father  of  my  spirit.  His  gentle  goodness  bending  down 
to  me.  His  tenderness  round  about  me,  eternal  love  that 
never  can  die;  the  thing  that  lasts  in  the  universe  is 
His  kindness,  which  continues  from  everlasting  to  ever- 
lasting. What  a  revelation  of  God!  Oh,  dear  friends, 
if  only  our  hearts  could  open  to  the  full  acceptance  of 
that  thought,  sorrow  and  care  and  anxiety,  and  every 
other  form  of  trouble,  would  fade  away  and  we  should 
be  at  rest.  The  infinite,  undying,  imperishable  love  of 
God  is  mine.  Older  than  the  mountains,  deeper  than 
their  roots,  wider  than  the  heavens,  and  stronger  than 
all  my  sin,  is  the  love  that  grasps  me  and  keeps  me  and 


V.  10]       PASSING  AND  PERMANENT  129 

will  not  let  me  go,  and  lavishes  its  tenderness  upon  me, 
and  beseeches  me,  and  pleads  with  me,  and  woos  me, 
and  rebukes  me,  and  corrects  me  when  I  need,  and  sent 
His  Son  to  die  for  me.  '  My  kindness  shall  not  depart 
from  thee. ' 

But  even  that  great  conception  does  not  exhaust  the 
encouragement  which  the  prophet  has  to  give  to  souls 
weighed  upon  with  the  transiency  of  the  material.  He 
speaks  of  '  the  covenant  of  My  peace. '  We  are  to  think 
of  this  great,  tender,  changeless  love  of  God,  which  un- 
derlies all  things  and  towers  above  all  things,  which 
overlaps  them  all  and  fills  eternity,  as  being  placed,  so 
to  speak,  under  the  guarantee  of  a  solemn  obligation. 
God's  covenant  is  a  great  thought  of  Scripture  which 
we  far  too  little  apprehend  in  the  depth  and  power  of  its 
meaning.  His  covenant  with  you  and  me,  poor  crea- 
tures, is  this,  '  I  promise  that  My  love  shall  never  leave 
thee.'  He  makes  Himself  a  constitutional  monarch,  so 
to  speak,  giving  us  a  plighted  word  to  which  we  can  ap- 
peal and  go  to  Him  and  say,  '  There,  that  is  the  charter 
given  by  Thyself,  given  irrevocably  for  ever,  and  I  hold 
Thee  to  it.     Fulfil  it,  O  Thou  God  of  Truth!  ' 

'  My  covenant  of  peace. '     Dear  friends,  the  prophet 

spoke  a  deeper  thing  than  he  knew  when  he  uttered 

these  words.     Let  me  remind  you  of  the  large  meaning 

which  the  New  Testament  puts  into  them.     '  Now  the 

God  of  Peace  that  brought  again  from  the  dead  our 

Lord  Jesus,  the  Great  Shepherd  of  the  Sheep,  through 

the  blood  of  the  everlasting  Covenant,  make  us  perfect 

in  every  good  work,  to  do  His  will.'     God  has  bound 

Himself  by  His  promise  to  give  you  and  me  the  peace 

that  belongs  to  His  own  nature,  and  that  covenant  is 

sealed  to  us  in  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  upon  the  Cross, 
VOL.  n.  I 


130  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  liv. 

and  so  we  sinful  men,  with  all  the  burden  of  our  evil 
upon  us,  with  all  our  sins  known  to  us,  with  all  our 
manifest  failings  and  infirmities,  can  turn  to  Him  and 
say,  '  Thou  hast  pledged  Thyself  to  forgive  and  accept, 
and  that  covenant  is  made  sure  to  me  because  Thy  Son 
hath  died,  and  I  come  and  ask  Thee  to  fulfil  it. '  And 
be  sure  of  this,  that  no  poor  creature  upon  earth,  how- 
ever lame  his  hand,  who  puts  out  that  hand  to  grasp 
that  peaceful  covenant — that  new  covenant  in  the  blood 
of  Christ — can  plead  in  vain. 

My  brother,  have  you  done  that  ?  Have  you  entered 
into  this  covenant  of  peace  with  God — peace  in  believ- 
ing, peace  by  the  blood  of  Chirst,  peace  that  fills  a  new 
heart,  peace  that  rules  amidst  all  the  perturbations  and 
disappointments  of  life?  Then  you  may  be  sure  that 
that  covenant  will  stand  for  evermore,  though  the  moun- 
tains depart  and  the  hills  be  removed. 

II.  Now  turn  with  me  to  a  few  practical  lessons  which 
we  may  gather  from  these  great  contrasts  here,  between 
the  perishable  mortal  and  the  immortal  divine  love. 

Surely  the  first  plain  one  is  a  warning  against  fastening 
our  love,  our  hope,  or  our  trust  on  these  transient  things. 

What  folly  it  is  for  a  man  to  risk  his  peace  and  the 
strength  and  the  joy  of  his  life  upon  things  that  crum- 
ble and  change,  when  all  the  while  there  is  lying  before 
him  open  for  his  entrance,  and  wooing  him  to  come  into 
the  eternal  home  of  his  spirit,  this  covenant!  Here  are 
we,  from  day  to  day,  plunged  into  these  passing  vani- 
ties, and  always  tempted  to  think  that  they  are  the  true 
abiding  things,  and  it  needs  great  discipline  and  watch- 
fulness to  live  the  better  life.  There  is  nothing  that 
will  help  us  to  do  it  like  a  firm  grasp  of  the  love  of  God 
in  Jesus  Christ.     Then  we  can  hold  these  mortal  joys 


V.  10]      PASSING  AND  PERMANENT  131 

with  a  loose  hand,  knowing  that  they  are  only  for  a  lit- 
tle time,  and  feeling  that  they  are  passing  whilst  we 
look  at  them,  and  are  changing  like  the  scenery  in  the 
sky  on  a  summer's  night,  with  its  cliffs  and  hills  in  the 
clouds,  even  while  we  gaze.  Where  there  was  a  moun- 
tain a  moment  ago  up  there,  there  is  now  a  depression, 
and  the  world  and  everything  in  it  lasts  very  little 
longer  than  these.  It  is  only  a  film  on  the  surface  of 
the  great  sea  of  eternity — there  is  no  reality  about  it. 
It  is  but  a  dream — a  vision,  slipping,  slipping,  slipping 
away,  and  you  and  I  slipping  along  with  it.  How  fool- 
ishly, how  obstinately,  we  all  cling  to  it,  though  even 
the  very  grasp  of  our  hands  tends  to  make  it  pass  away, 
as  the  children  coming  in  from  the  fields  with  their  store 
of  buttercups  and  daisies  in  their  hot  hands,  which  by 
their  very  clutch  hasten  the  withering.  And  that  is 
just  our  position.  We  have  them  for  a  brief  moment, 
and  they  all  perish  in  the  using.  Oh,  brother,  have  you 
set  your  heart  on  that  which  is  not,  when  all  the  while 
there,  longing  to  bless  and  love  us,  stands  the  Eternal 
God,  with  His  unchanging  love  and  faithful  covenant  of 
His  perpetual  peace?  Surely  it  were  wiser — wiser,  to 
put  it  on  the  lowest  ground — to  seek  the  things  that  are 
above,  and,  knowing  as  we  do  that  the  mountains  shall 
depart  and  the  hills  be  removed,  so  make  our  portion  the 
kindness  which  shall  not  depart,  and  seek  our  share  in 
the  peace  that  shall  not  pass  away. 

But  there  is  another  lesson  to  be  put  in  the  same  sim- 
ple fashion.  Surely  we  ought  to  use  thoughts  like  these 
of  my  text  in  order  to  stay  the  soul  in  seasons  which 
come  to  every  one  sometimes,  when  we  are  made  pain- 
fully conscious  of  the  transiency  of  this  Present.  Med- 
itative hours  come  to  us   all — moments  when  perhaps 


1S2  THE  BOOK  OP  ISAIAH      [ch.  liv. 

some  strain  of  music  gives  us  back  childhood's  days; 
when  perhaps  some  perfume  of  a  flower  reminds  us  of 
long-vanished  gardens  and  hands  that  have  crumbled 
into  dust;  when  some  touch  of  a  sunset  sky,  or  some 
word  of  a  book,  or  some  providence  of  our  lives,  comes 
upon  the  heart  and  mind,  reminding  us  how  everything 
is  passing.  You  have  all  had  these  thoughts.  Some  of 
us  stifle  them — they  are  not  pleasant  to  many  of  us; 
some  of  us  brood  over  them  unwholesomely,  and  that  is 
not  wise ;  but  the  best  use  of  them  is  to  bear  us  onward 
into  the  peaceful  region  where  we  clasp  to  our  troubled 
hearts  that  which  cannot  go.  If  any  of  us  are  making 
experience  to-day  of  earthly  change,  if  any  of  us  have 
hearts  heavy  with  earthly  losses,  if  any  of  us  are  bend- 
ing under  the  weight  of  that  awful  law,  that  everything 
becomes  part  and  parcel  of  that  dreadful  past,  if  any 
of  us  are  looking  at  our  empty  hands  and  saying,  '  They 
have  taken  away  my  god  and  what  have  I  more?  '  let  us 
listen  to  the  better  voice  that  says,  '  My  kindness  shall 
not  depart  from  thee,  and  so,  whatever  goes,  thou 
canst  not  be  desolate  if  thou  hast  Me. ' 

And  then,  still  further,  let  me  remind  you  that  this 
same  thought  may  avail  to  give  to  us  hopes  of  years  as 
immortal  as  itself.  We  do  not  belong  to  the  mountains 
and  hills  that  shall  depart,  or  to  the  order  of  things  to 
which  they  belong!  There  is  coming  a  very  solemn 
day,  I  believe,  not  by  any  mere  processes  of  natural  de- 
cay as  I  take  it,  but  by  the  action  of  God  Himself,  the 
Judge — that  '  day  of  the  Lord  that  shall  come  as  a  thief 
in  the  night ' — when  the  mountains  shall  depart,  and 
the  hills  be  removed,  and  the  throne  of  judgment  shall 
be  set,  and  you  and  I  will  be  there.  My  brother,  lay 
your  hand  on  that  covenant  of  peace  which  is  made  for 


V.  10]       PASSING  AND  PERMANENT  133 

us  all  in  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord,  and  then  '  calm  as  the 
summer's  ocean  we  shall  be,  and  all  the  wreck  of  na- 
ture '  cannot  disturb  us,  for  we  shall  abide  unshaken  as 
the  throne  of  God.  The  mountains  may  pass,  the  hills 
be  removed,  but  '  herein  is  our  love  made  perfect,  that 
we  may  have  boldness  in  the  day  of  judgment, '  for  that 
kindness  shall  not  depart  from  us,  and  God's  gentle  ten- 
derness is  eternal  as  Himself.  Then  we  shall  not  depart 
from  it  either,  and  we  are  immortal  as  the  tenderness 
that  encloses  us,  God's  endless  love  must  have  undying 
creatures  on  whom  to  pour  itself  out,  and  if  to-day  I  pos- 
sess— as  we  all  may  possess  in  however  feeble  a  measure 
— some  sips  and  prelibations  of  that  great  flood  of  love 
that  is  in  God,  I  can  look  unblanched  right  into  the  eyes 
of  death  and  say,  '  Thou  hast  no  power  at  all  over  me,  I 
am  eternal  because  the  God  that  loves  me  is  so,  and  since 
He  hath  loved  me  with  an  everlasting  love.  His  loving- 
kindness  shall  not  depart  from  me.  Therefore,  seeing 
that  all  these  things  shall  be  dissolved,  I  know  that  I 
have  a  building  of  God,  a  house  not  made  with  hands, 
eternal  in  the  heavens,  and  because  He  lives  I  shall  live 
also. '  The  hope  that  is  built  upon  the  eternal  love  of 
God  in  Christ  is  the  true  guarantee  to  me  of  immortal 
existence,  and  this  hope  is  ours  if,  and  only  if,  we  come 
into  the  covenant — the  covenant  of  peace.  God  says,  '  I 
will  love  thee,  I  will  bless  thee,  I  will  keep  thee,  I  will  par- 
don thee,  I  will  save  thee,  I  will  glorify  thee,  and  there  is 
My  bond  on  that  Cross,  the  new  covenant  in  His  blood. ' 
Close  with  the  covenant  that  God  is  ready  to  make  with 
you,  and  then  '  life  and  death,  principalities  and  powers, 
things  present  and  things  to  come,  height  and  depth,  and 
every  other  creature  shall  be  impotent  to  separate  you 
from  the  love  of  God  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord, ' 


THE   CALL  TO  THE   THIESTY 

'Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters,  and  he  that  hath 
no  money ;  come  ye,  buy,  and  eat ;  yea,  come,  buy  wine  and  milk  without 
money  and  without  price.  2.  Wherefore  do  ye  spend  money  for  that  which 
is  not  bread?  and  your  labour  for  that  which  satisfieth  not?  hearken  dili- 
gently unto  Me,  and  eat  ye  that  which  is  good,  and  let  your  soul  delight 
itself  in  fatness.  3.  Incline  your  ear,  and  come  unto  Me:  hear,  and  your 
soul  shall  live;  and  I  will  make  an  everlasting  covenant  with  you,  even 
the  sure  mercies  of  David.  4.  Behold,  I  have  given  him  for  a  witness  to 
the  people,  a  leader  and  commander  to  the  people.  5.  Behold,  thou  shalt 
call  a  nation  that  thou  knowest  not,  and  nations  that  knew  not  thee  shall 
run  unto  thee  because  of  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  for  the  Holy  One  of  Israel ; 
for  He  hath  glorified  thee.  6.  Seek  ye  the  Lord  while  He  may  be  found, 
call  ye  upon  Him  while  He  is  near:  7.  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and 
the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts:  and  let  him  return  unto  the  Lord,  and 
He  will  have  mercy  upon  him ;  and  to  our  God,  for  He  will  abundantly  par- 
don. 8.  For  My  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways 
My  ways,  saith  the  Lord.  9.  For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth, 
so  are  My  ways  higher  than  your  ways,  and  My  thoughts  than  your 
thoughts.  10.  For  as  the  rain  cometh  down,  and  the  snow  from  heaven, 
and  returneth  not  thither,  but  watereth  the  earth,  and  maketh  it  bring 
forth  and  bud,  that  it  may  give  seed  to  the  sower,  and  bread  to  the  eater: 
11.  So  shall  My  word  be  that  goeth  forth  out  of  My  mouth:  it  shall  not 
return  unto  Me  void,  but  it  shall  accomplish  that  which  I  please,  and  it 
shall  prosper  in  the  thing  whereto  I  sent  it.  12.  For  ye  shall  go  out  with 
joy,  and  be  led  forth  with  peace:  the  mountains  and  the  hills  shall  break 
forth  before  you  into  singing,  and  all  the  trees  of  the  field  shall  clap  their 
hands.  13.  Instead  of  the  thorn  shall  come  up  the  fir  tree,  and  instead 
of  the  brier  shall  come  up  the  myrtle  tree :  and  it  shall  be  to  the  Lord  for  a 
name,  for  an  everlasting  sign  that  shall  not  be  cut  off.' — Isaiah  Iv.  1-13. 

The  call  to  partake  of  the  blessings  of  the  Messianic  sal- 
vation worthily  follows  the  great  prophecy  of  the  suffer- 
ing Servant.  No  doubt  the  immediate  application  of 
this  chapter  is  to  the  exiled  nation,  who  in  it  are  sum- 
moned from  their  vain  attempts  to  find  satisfaction  in 
the  material  prosperity  realised  in  exile,  and  to  make  the 
only  true  blessedness  their  own  by  obedience  to  God's 
voice.  But  if  ever  the  prophet  spoke  to  the  world  he 
does  so  here.  It  is  no  unwarranted  spiritualising  of  his 
invitation  which  hears  in  it  the  voice  which  invites  all 
mankind  to  share  the  blessings  of  the  gospel  feast. 

The  glorious  words  need  little  exposition.  What  we 
have  to  do  is  to  see  that  they  do  not  fall  on  our  ears  in 
vain.     They  may  be  roughly  divided  into  two  sections — 

134 


vs.  1-13]  THE  CALL  TO  THE  THIRSTY      135 

the  invitation  to  the  feast,  with  the  promises  to  the  obe- 
dient Israel  (verses  1-5),  and  the  summons  to  the  neces- 
sary preparation  for  the  feast,  namely,  repentance,  with 
the  reason  for  its  necessity,  and  the  encouragements  to 
it  in  the  might  of  God's  faithful  promises  (verses  6-13). 

I.  Whose  voice  sounds  so  beseechingly  and  welcoming 
in  this  great  call,  which  rings  out  to  all  thirsty  souls? 
If  we  note  the  '  Me  '  and  '  I '  which  follow,  we  shall  hear 
God  Himself  thus  taking  the  office  of  summoner  to  His 
own  feast.  By  whatever  media  the  gospel  call  reaches 
us,  it  is  in  reality  God's  own  voice  to  our  hearts,  and 
that  makes  the  responsibility  of  hearing  more  tremen- 
dous, and  the  folly  of  refusing  more  inexcusable. 

Who  are  invited?  There  are  but  two  conditions  ex- 
pressed in  verse  1,  and  these  are  fulfilled  in  every  soul. 
All  are  summoned  who  are  thirsty  and  penniless.  If  we 
have  in  our  souls  desires  that  all  the  broken  cisterns  of 
earth  can  never  slake — and  we  all  have  these — and  if  we 
have  nothing  by  which  we  can  procure  what  will  still 
the  gnawing  hunger  and  burning  thirst  of  our  souls — 
and  none  of  us  has — then  we  are  included  in  the  call. 
Universal  as  are  the  craving  for  blessedness  and  the 
powerlessness  to  satisfy  it,  are  the  adaptation  and  desti- 
nation of  the  gospel. 

What  is  offered?  Water,  wine,  milk — all  the  bever- 
ages of  a  simple  civilisation,  differing  in  their  operation, 
but  all  precious  to  a  thirsty  palate.  Water  revives, 
wine  gladdens  and  inspirits,  milk  nourishes.  All  that 
any  man  needs  or  desires  is  to  be  found  in  Christ.  We 
shall  not  understand  the  nature  of  the  feast  unless  we 
remember  that  He  Himself  is  the  '  gift  of  God. '  What 
these  three  draughts  mean  is  best  perceived  when  we 
listen  to  Him  saying,  in  a  plain  quotation  of  this  call, 


136  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  lv. 

'  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto  Me  and  drink. ' 
Nothing  short  of  Himself  can  satisfy  the  thirst  of  one 
soul,  much  less  of  all  the  thirsty.  Like  the  flow  from 
the  magic  fountain  of  the  legend,  Jesus  becomes  to  each 
what  each  most  desires. 

How  does  He  become  ours?  The  paradox  of  buying 
with  what  is  not  money  is  meant,  by  its  very  appear- 
ance of  contradiction,  to  put  in  strongest  fashion  that 
the  possession  of  Him  depends  on  nothing  in  us  but  the 
sense  of  need  and  the  willingness  to  accept.  We  buy 
Christ  when  we  part  with  self,  which  is  all  that  we  have, 
in  order  to  win  Him.  We  must  be  full  of  conscious 
emptiness  and  desire,  if  we  are  to  be  filled  with  His  ful- 
ness. Jesus  interpreted  the  meaning  of  'come  to  the 
waters'  when  He  said,  '  He  that  cometh  to  Me  shall 
never  hunger,  and  he  that  believeth  on  Me  shall  never 
thirst. '  Faith  is  coming,  faith  is  drinking,  faith  is  buy- 
ing. 

The  universal  call,  with  is  clear  setting  forth  of  bless- 
ing and  conditions  of  possessing,  is  followed  by  a  plead- 
ing remonstrance  as  to  the  folly  of  lavishing  effort  and 
money  on  what  is  not  bread.  It  is  strange  that  men 
will  cheerfully  take  more  pains  to  continue  thirsty  than 
to  accept  the  satisfaction  which  God  provides.  They 
toil  and  continue  unsatisfied.  Experience  does  not  teach 
them,  and  all  the  while  the  one  real  good  is  waiting  to 
be  theirs  for  nothing. 

'  'Tis  heaven  alone  that  is  given  away ; 
'Tis  only  God  may  be  had  for  the  asking.' 

Christ  goes  a-begging,  and  we  spend  our  strength  in 
vain  toil  to  acquire  what  we  turn  away  from  when  it  is 
offered  us  in  Him.  When  the  great  Father  offers  bread 
for  nothing,  we  will  not  have  it,  but  we  are  ready  to 


vs.  1-13]  THE  CALL  TO  THE  THIRSTY      137 

give  any  price  for  a  stone.  It  is  not  the  wickedness, 
but  the  folly,  of  unbelief,  which  is  the  marvel. 

The  contrast  between  the  heavy  price  at  which  men 
buy  hunger,  and  the  easy  rate  at  which  they  may  have 
full  satisfaction,  is  further  set  forth  by  the  call  to  '  in- 
cline the  ear, '  which  is  all  that  is  needed  in  order  that 
life  and  nourishment  which  delights  the  soul  may  be 
ours.  '  Hearken,  and  eat'  is  equivalent  to  '  Hearken, 
and  ye  shall  eat.'  The  real  '  good  '  for  man  is  only  to 
be  found  in  listening  to  and  obeying  the  divine  voice, 
whether  it  sound  in  invitation,  promise,  or  command. 
The  true  life  of  the  soul  lies  in  that  listening  receptive- 
ness  which  takes  for  one's  own  God's  great  gift  of 
Christ,  and  yields  glad  obedience  to  His  every  word. 

The  exiled  Israel  was  promised  an  '  everlasting  cove- 
nant '  as  the  result  of  their  acceptance  of  the  invitation ; 
and  we  know  whose  blood  it  is  that  has  sealed  the  new 
covenant,  which  abides  as  long  as  Christ's  fulness  and 
men's  need  shall  last.  That  covenant,  of  which  we  sel- 
dom hear  in  Isaiah,  but  which  fills  a  prominent  place  in 
Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel,  is  further  explained  as  being  '  the 
sure  mercies  of  David. '  This  phrase  and  its  context  are 
difficult,  but  the  general  meaning  is  clear.  The  great 
promises  of  God's  unfailing  mercy,  made  to  the  histori- 
cal founder  of  the  royal  house,  shall  be  transferred  and 
continued,  with  inviolable  faithfulness,  to  those  who 
drink  of  the  gift  of  God. 

This  parallel  between  the  great  King  and  the  whole 
mass  of  the  true  Israel  is  further  set  forth  in  verses  4 
and  6.  Each  begins  with  '  Behold, '  and  the  similar 
form  indicates  similarity  in  contents.  The  son  of  Jesse 
was  in  some  degree  God's  witness  to  the  heathen  na- 
tions, as  is  expressed  in  several  psalms;   and,  what  he 


138  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lv. 

was  imperfectly,  the  ransomed  Israel  would  be  to  the 
world.  The  office  of  the  Christian  Church  is  to  draw 
nations  that  it  knew  not,  to  follow  in  the  blessed  path, 
in  which  it  has  found  satisfaction  and  the  dawnings  of  a 
more  than  natural  glory  transfiguring  it.  They  who 
have  themselves  drunk  of  the  unfailing  fountain  in 
Christ  are  thereby  fitted  and  called  to  cry  to  others, 
'  Come  ye  to  the  waters. '  Experience  of  Christ's  pre- 
ciousness,  and  of  the  rest  of  soul  which  comes  from  par- 
taking of  His  salvation,  impels  and  obliges  to  call  others 
to  share  the  bliss. 

II.  The  second  part  of  the  chapter  begins  with  an 
urgent  call  to  repentance,  based  upon  the  difference  be- 
tween God's  ways  and  man's,  and  on  the  certainty  that 
the  divine  promises  will  be  fulfilled.  The  summons  in 
verses  6  and  7  is  first  couched  in  most  general  terms, 
which  are  then  more  closely  defined.  To  '  seek  the 
Lord  '  is  to  direct  conduct  and  heart  to  obtain  possession 
of  God  as  one's  own.  Of  that  seeking,  the  chief  ele- 
ment is  calling  upon  Him ;  since  such  is  His  desire  to  be 
found  of  us  that  it  only  needs  our  asking  in  order  to  re- 
ceive. As  surely  as  the  mother  hears  her  child's  cry, 
so  surely  does  He  catch  the  faintest  voice  addressed  to 
Him.  But,  men  being  what  they  are,  a  change  of  ways 
and  of  their  root  in  thoughts  is  indispensable.  Seeking 
which  is  not  accompanied  by  forsaking  self  and  an  evil 
past  is  no  genuine  seeking,  and  will  end  in  no  finding. 
But  this  forsaking  is  only  one  side  of  true  repentance ; 
the  other  is  return  to  God,  as  is  expressed  in  the  New 
Testament  word  for  it,  which  implies  a  change  of  mind, 
purpose,  and  conduct.  The  faces  which  were  turned 
earthward  and  averted  from  God  are  to  be  turned  God- 
ward  and  diverted  from  earth.     Whosoever  thus  seeks 


vs.  1-13]  THE  CALL  TO  THE  THIRSTY       139 

may  be  confident  of  finding  and  of  abundant  pardon. 
The  belief  in  God's  loving  forgivingness  is  the  strongest 
motive  to  repentance,  and  the  most  melting  argument 
to  listen  to  the  call  to  seek  Him.  But  there  is  another 
motive  of  a  more  awful  kind;  namely,  the  considera- 
tion that  the  period  of  mercy  is  limited,  and  that  a  time 
may  come,  and  that  soon,  when  God  no  longer  '  may  be 
found  '  nor  '  is  near. ' 

The  need  for  such  a  radical  change  in  conduct  and 
mind  is  further  enforced,  in  verses  8  and  9,  by  the  em- 
phatic statement  of  present  discord  between  the  exiled 
Israel  and  God.  Mark  that  the  deepest  seat  of  the  dis- 
cord is  first  dealt  with,  and  then  the  manifestation  of  it 
in  active  life.  Mark  also  that  the  order  of  comparison 
is  inverted  in  the  two  successive  clauses  in  verse  8. 
God's  thoughts  have  not  entered  into  Israel's  mind  and 
become  theirs.  The  '  thinkings '  not  being  regulated 
according  to  God's  truth,  nor  the  desires  and  sentiments 
brought  into  accord  with  His  will  and  mind,  a  contra- 
riety of  '  ways '  must  follow,  and  the  paths  which  men 
choose  for  themselves  cannot  run  parallel  with  God's, 
nor  be  pleasing  to  Him.  Therefore  the  stringent  ur- 
gency of  the  call  to  forsake  '  the  crooked,  wandering 
ways  in  which  we  live, '  and  to  come  back  to  the  path  of 
righteousness  which  is  traced  by  God  for  our  feet. 

But  divergence  which  necessitates  repentance  is  not 
the  only  relation  between  our  ways  and  God's.  There 
is  elevation,  transcendency,  like  that  of  the  eternal 
heavens,  high,  boundless,  the  home  of  light,  the  store- 
house of  beneficent  influences  which  fertilise.  If  we 
think  of  the  dreary,  flat  plains  where  the  exiles  were, 
and  the  magnificent  sweep  of  the  sky  over  them,  we 
shall  feel  the  beauty  of  the  figure.     If  '  My  thoughts  are 


140  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lv. 

not  your  thoughts  '  was  all  that  was  to  be  said,  repent- 
ance would  be  of  little  use,  and  there  would  be  little  to 
encourage  to  it;  but  if  God's  thoughts  of  love  and  ways 
of  blessing  arch  themselves  above  our  low  lives  as  the 
sky  bends,  pitying  and  bestowing,  above  squalor,  bar- 
renness, and  darkness,  then  penitence  is  not  in  vain,  and 
the  low  earth  may  be  visited  with  gifts  from  the  high- 
est heaven. 

The  certainty  that  such  gifts  will  be  bestowed  is  the 
last  thought  of  this  magnificent  summons.  The  prophet 
dilates  on  that  assurance  to  the  end  of  the  chapter.  He 
seems  to  catch  fire,  as  it  were,  from  the  introduction  of 
that  grand  figure  of  the  lofty  heavens  domed  above  the 
flat  earth.  In  effect,  what  he  says  is:  They  are  high 
and  inaccessible,  but  think  what  pours  down  from  them, 
and  how  all  fertility  depends  on  their  gifts  of  rain  and 
snow,  and  how  the  moisture  which  they  drop  is  turned 
into  '  seed  to  the  sower,  and  bread  to  the  eater. '  Think- 
ing of  that  continuous  benefaction  and  miracle,  we 
should  see  in  it  a  symbol  of  the  better  gifts  from  the 
higher  heavens.  So  does  God's  word  come  down  from 
His  throne.  So  does  it  turn  barrenness  into  nodding 
harvest.  So  does  it  quicken  undreamed-of  powers  of 
fruitfulness  in  human  nature  and  among  the  forces  of 
the  world.  So  does  it  supply  nourishment  for  hungry 
souls,  and  germs  which  shall  bear  fruit  in  coming  years. 
No  complicated  machinery  nor  the  most  careful  culture 
can  work  what  the  gentle  dropping  rain  effects.  There 
is  mightier  force  in  it  than  in  many  thunder-clouds. 
The  gospel  does  with  ease  and  in  silence  what  nothing 
else  can  do.  It  makes  barren  souls  fruitful  in  all  good 
works,  and  in  all  happiness  worthy  of  men.  Therefore 
the  summons  to  drink  of  the  springing  fountain  and  to 


vs.  1-13]  THE  CALL  TO  THE  THIRSTY     141 

turn  from  evil  ways  and  thoughts  is  recommended  by 
the  assurance  that  God's  word  is  faithful,  and  all  His 
promises  firm. 

The  final  verses  (verses  12,  13)  give  the  glowing  pic- 
ture of  the  return  from  exile  amid  the  jubilation  of  a 
transformed  world,  as  the  strongest  motive  to  the  obe- 
dient hearkening  to  God's  voice,  to  which  the  chapter 
has  summoned,  and  as  the  great  instance  of  God's  keep- 
ing His  word. 

The  flight  from  Egypt  was  '  in  haste  '  (Deut.  xvi.  3) ; 
but  this  shall  be  a  triumphal  exodus,  without  conflict  or 
alarms.  All  nature  shall  participate  in  the  joy.  Moun- 
tains and  hills  shall  raise  the  shrill  note  of  rejoicing,  and 
the  trees  wave  their  branches,  as  if  clapping  hands  in 
delight.  This  is  more  than  mere  poetic  rhetoric.  A  re- 
deemed humanity  implies  a  glorified  world.  Nature  has 
been  involved  in  the  consequences  of  sin,  and  will  share 
in  the  results  of  redemption,  and  have  some  humble 
reflected  light  from  '  the  liberty  of  the  glory  of  the  sons 
of  God.' 

The  fulfilment  of  this  final  promise  is  not  yet.  All 
earlier  returns  of  the  exiled  Israel  from  the  Babylon  of 
their  bondage  to  God  and  the  city  of  God,  such  as  the 
historical  one  which  the  prophet  foretold,  and  the  spirit- 
ual one  which  is  repeated  age  by  age  in  the  history  of 
the  Christian  Church  and  of  single  penitent  souls,  point 
on  to  that  last  triumphant  day  when  '  the  ransomed  of 
the  Lord  shall  return, '  and  the  world  be  transfigured  to 
match  the  glory  that  they  inherit.  That  fair  world 
without  poison  or  offence,  and  the  nations  of  the  saved 
who  inhabit  its  peaceful  spaces,  shall  be,  in  the  fullest 
stretch  of  the  words,  '  to  the  Lord  for  a  name,  and  for 
an  everlasting  sign  that  shall  not  be  cut  off. '     The  re- 


142  THE  BOOK  OP  ISAIAH        [ch.  lv. 

demption  of  man  and  his  establishing  amid  the  felicities 
of  a  state  correspondent  to  His  God-given  glory  shall  be 
to  all  eternity  and  to  all  possible  creations  the  highest 
evidence  of  what  God  is,  and  His  token  to  all  beings. 


THE   GREAT   PROCLAMATION 

'Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters,  and  he  that  hath 
no  money ;  come  ye,  buy  and  eat ;  yea,  come,  buy  wine  and  milk  without 
money  and  without  price.' — Isaiah  lv.  1. 

The  meaning  of  the  word  preach  is  'proclaim  like  a 
herald  ' ;  or,  what  is  perhaps  more  familiar  to  most  of 
us,  like  a  town-crier;  with  a  loud  voice,  clearly  and 
plainly  delivering  the  message.  Now,  there  are  other 
notions  of  a  sermon  than  that;  and  there  is  other  work 
which  ministers  have  to  do,  of  an  educational  kind. 
But  my  business  now  is  to  preach.  We  have  ventured 
to  ask  others  than  the  members  of  our  own  congrega- 
tion to  join  us  in  this  service ;  and  I  should  be  ashamed 
of  myself,  and  have  good  reason  to  be  so,  if  I  had  asked 
you  to  come  to  hear  me  talk,  or  to  entertain  you  with 
more  or  less  eloquent  and  thoughtful  discourses.  There 
is  a  time  for  everything ;  and  what  this  is  the  time  for 
is  to  ring  out  like  a  bellman  the  message  which  I  believe 
God  has  given  me  for  you.  It  cannot  but  suffer  in  pass- 
ing through  human  lips;  but  I  pray  that  my  poor 
words  may  not  be  all  unworthy  of  its  stringency,  and 
of  the  greatness  of  its  blessing.  My  text  is  God's 
proclamation,  and  all  that  the  best  of  us  can  do  is 
but  to  reiterate  that,  more  feebly  alas,  but  still  earn- 
estly. 

Suppose   there  was  an   advertisement  in  to-morrow 
morning's  papers  that  any  one  that  liked  to  go  to  a  cer- 


V.  1]       THE  GREAT  PROCLAMATION       143 

tain  place  might  get  a  fortune  for  going,  what  a  queue 
of  waiting  suppliants  there  would  be  at  the  door!  Here 
is  God's  greatest  gift  going  a-begging;  and  there  are 
no  doubt  some  among  you  who  listen  to  my  text  with 
only  the  thought,  '  Oh,  the  old  threadbare  story  is  what 
we  have  been  asked  to  come  and  hear! '  Brethren,  have 
you  taken  the  offer?  If  not,  it  needs  to  be  pressed  upon 
you  once  more.  So  my  purpose  in  this  sermon  is  a  very 
simple  one.  I  wish,  as  a  brother  to  a  brother,  to  put  be- 
fore you  these  three  things :  to  whom  this  offer  is  made ; 
what  it  consists  of ;  and  how  it  may  be  ours. 

I.  To  whom  this  offer  is  made. 

It  is  to  every  one  thirsty  and  penniless.  That  is  a 
melancholy  combination,  to  be  needing  something  infi- 
nitely, and  to  have  not  a  farthing  to  get  it  with.  But 
that  is  the  condition  in  which  we  all  stand,  in  regard  to 
the  highest  and  best  things.  This  invitation  of  my  text 
is  as  universal  as  if  it  had  stopped  with  its  third  word. 
'  Ho,  every  one  '  would  have  been  no  broader  than  is  the 
offer  as  it  stands.  For  the  characteristics  named  are 
those  which  belong,  necessarily  and  universally,  to 
human  experience.  If  my  text  had  said,  '  Ho,  every 
one  that  breathes  human  breath,'  it  would  not  have 
more  completely  covered  the  whole  race,  and  enfolded 
thee  and  me,  and  all  our  brethren,  in  the  amplitude  of 
its  promise,  than  it  does  when  it  sets  up  as  the  sole  qual- 
ifications thirst  and  penury — that  we  infinitely  need, 
and  that  we  are  absolutely  unable  to  acquire,  the  bless- 
ings that  it  offers. 

'  Every  one  that  thirsteth  ' — that  means  desire.  Yes ; 
but  it  means  need  also.  And  what  is  every  man  but  a 
great  bundle  of  yearnings  and  necessities?  None  of  us 
carry  within  ourselves  that  which  suffices  for  ourselves. 


144  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lv. 

We  are  all  dependent  upon  external  things  for  being 
and  for  wellbeing. 

There  are  thirsts  which  infallibly  point  to  their  true 
objects.  If  a  man  is  hungry  he  knows  that  it  is  food 
that  he  wants.  And  just  as  the  necessities  of  the  ani- 
mal life  are  incapable  of  being  misunderstood,  and  the 
objects  which  will  satisfy  them  incapable  of  being  con- 
fused or  mistaken,  so  there  are  other  nobler  thirsts, 
which,  in  like  manner,  work  automatically,  and  point  to 
the  thing  that  they  need.  We  have  social  instincts ;  we 
need  love;  we  need  friendship;  we  need  somebody  to 
lean  upon ;  we  thirst  for  some  heart  to  rest  our  heads 
upon,  for  hands  to  clasp  ours;  and  we  know  where  the 
creatures  and  the  objects  are  that  will  satisfy  these  de- 
sires. And  there  are  the  higher  thirsts  of  the  spirit, 
that  '  follows  knowledge,  like  a  sinking  star,  beyond  the 
furthest  bounds  of  human  thought ' ;  and  a  man  knows 
where  and  how  to  gratify  the  impulse  that  drives  him  to 
seek  after  the  many  forms  of  knowledge  and  wisdom. 

But  besides  all  these,  besides  sense,  besides  affection, 
besides  emotions,  besides  the  intellectual  spur  of  which 
we  are  all  more  or  less  conscious,  there  come  in  a  whole 
set  of  other  thirsts  that  do  not  in  themselves  carry  the 
intimation  of  the  place  where  they  can  be  slaked.  And 
so  you  get  men  restless,  as  some  of  you  are ;  always  dis- 
satisfied, as  some  of  you  are;  feeling  that  there  is  some- 
thing wanting,  yet  not  knowing  what,  as  some  of  you 
are.  You  remember  the  old  story  in  the  Arabian 
Nights,  of  the  man  who  had  a  grand  palace,  and  lived 
in  it  quite  contentedly,  until  some  one  told  him  that  it 
needed  a  roc's  egg  hanging  from  the  roof  to  make  it 
complete,  and  he  did  not  know  where  to  get  that,  and 
was  miserable  accordingly.     We  build  our  houses,  we 


V.  1]      THE  GREAT  PROCLAMATION        145 

fancy  that  we  are  satisfied ;  and  then  there  comes  the 
stinging  thought  that  it  is  not  all  complete  yet,  and  we 
go  groping,  groping  in  the  dark,  to  find  out  where  the 
lacking  thing  is.  Shipwrecked  sailors  sometimes,  in 
their  desperation,  drink  salt  water,  and  that  makes  them 
thirstier  than  ever,  and  brings  on  madness  and  death. 
Some  publicans  drug  the  vile  liquors  which  they  sell,  so 
that  they  increase  thirst.  We  may  make  no  mistake 
about  how  to  satisfy  the  desires  of  sense  or  of  earthly 
affections ;  we  may  be  quite  certain  that  '  money  an- 
swereth  all  things, '  and  that  it  is  good  to  get  on  in  busi- 
ness in  Manchester;  or  may  have  found  a  pure  and  en- 
during satisfaction  in  study  and  in  books — yet  we  have 
thirsts  that  some  of  us  know  not  where  to  satisfy ;  and 
so  we  have  parched  lips  and  swollen  tongues,  and  raging 
desire  that  earth  can  give  nothing  to  fill. 

My  brother,  do  you  know  what  it  is  that  you  want? 

It  is  God.  Nothing  else,  nothing  less.  '  My  soul 
thirsteth  for  God,  for  the  living  God.'  The  man  that 
knows  what  it  is  of  which  he  is  in  such  sore  need,  is 
blessed.  The  man  who  only  feels  dimly  that  he  needs 
something,  and  does  not  know  that  it  is  God  whom  he 
does  need,  is  condemned  to  wander  in  a  dry  and  thirsty 
land,  where  no  water  is,  and  where  his  heart  gapes, 
parched  and  cracked  like  the  soil  upon  which  he  treads. 
Understand  your  thirst.  Interpret  your  desires  aright. 
Open  your  eyes  to  your  need ;  and  be  sure  of  this,  that 
mountains  of  money  and  the  clearest  insight  into  intel- 
lectual problems,  and  fame,  and  love,  and  wife,  and 
children,  and  a  happy  home,  and  abundance  of  all  things 
that  you  can  desire,  will  leave  a  central  aching  emptiness 
that  nothing  and  no  person  but  God  can  ever  fill.  Oh, 
that  we  all  knew  what  these  yearnings  of  our  hearts  mean! 


146  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lv. 

Aye!  but  there  are  c?orma72f  thirsts  too.  It  is  no  proof 
of  superiority  that  a  savage  has  fewer  wants  than  you 
and  I  have,  for  the  want  is  the  open  mouth  into  which 
supply  comes.  And  it  is  no  proof  that  you  have  not, 
deep  in  your  nature,  desires  which,  unless  they  are  sat- 
isfied, will  prevent  your  being  blessed,  that  these  desires 
are  all  unconscious  to  yourselves.  The  business  of  us 
preachers  is,  very  largely,  to  get  the  people  who  will 
listen  to  us,  to  recognise  the  fact  that  they  do  want 
things  which  they  do  not  wish ;  and  that,  for  the  perfec- 
tion of  their  natures,  the  cherishing  of  noble  longings  and 
thirstings  is  needful,  and  that  to  be  without  this  sense 
of  need  is  to  be  without  one  of  the  loftiest  prerogatives 

of  humanity. 

Some  of  you  do  not  wish  forgiveness.  Many  of  you 
would  much  rather  not  have  holiness.  You  do  not  want 
to  have  God.  The  promises  of  the  Gospel  go  clean  over 
your  heads,  and  are  as  impotent  to  influence  you  as  the 
wind  whistling  through  a  keyhole,  because  you  have 
never  been  aware  of  the  wants  to  which  these  promises 
correspond,  and  do  not  understand  what  it  is  that  you 
truly  require. 

And  yet  there  is  no  desire — that  is  to  say,  conscious- 
ness of  necessities — so  dormant  but  that  its  being  un- 
gratified  makes  a  man  restless.  You  do  not  wish  for- 
giveness, but  you  will  never  be  happy  till  you  get  it. 
You  do  not  wish  to  be  good  and  true  and  holy  men,  but 
you  will  never  be  blessed  till  you  are.  You  do  not  want 
to  have  God,  some  of  you,  but  you  will  be  restless  till 
you  find  Him.  You  fancy  you  wish  heaven  when  you 
are  dead ;  you  do  not  want  it  while  you  are  living.  But 
until  your  earthly  life  is  like  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ  in 
heaven,  though  in  an  inferior  degree,  whilst  it  is  on 


V.  1]      THE  GREAT  PROCLAMATION        147 

earth,  you  will  never  be  at  rest.  You  are  thirsty- 
enough  after  these  things  to  be  ill  at  ease  without  them, 
when  you  bethink  yourselves  and  pass  out  of  the  region 
of  mere  mechanical  and  habitual  existence;  but  until 
you  get  these  things  that  you  do  not  desire,  be  sure  of 
this:  that  you  will  be  tortured  with  vain  unrest,  and 
will  find  that  the  satisfactions  which  you  do  seek  turn  to 
ashes  in  your  mouth.  '  Bread  of  deceit,'  says  the  Book, 
'  is  sweet  to  a  man. '  The  writer  meant  by  that  that 
there  were  people  to  whom  it  was  pleasant  to  tell  profit- 
able lies.  But  we  might  widen  the  meaning,  and  say 
that  all  these  lower  satisfactions,  apart  from  the  loftier 
ones  of  forgiveness,  acceptance,  reconciliation  with  God, 
the  conscious  possession  of  Him,  a  well-grounded  hope 
of  immortality,  the  power  to  live  a  noble  life  and  to  look 
forward  to  a  glorious  heaven,  are  'bread  of  deceit,' 
which  promises  nourishment  and  does  not  give  it,  but 
breaks  the  teeth  that  try  to  masticate  it ;  'it  turneth  to 
gravel. ' 

'  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth.'  That  designation  in- 
cludes us  all.  'And  he  that  hath  no  money.'  Who  has 
any?  Notice  that  the  persons  represented  in  our  text 
as  penniless  are,  in  the  next  verse,  remonstrated  with 
for  spending  '  money. '  So  then  the  penniless  man  had 
some  pence  away  in  some  corner  of  his  pocket  which  he 
could  spend.  He  had  the  money  that  would  buy  shams, 
'that  which  is  not  bread  '  but  a  stone  though  it  looks  like 
a  loaf,  but  he  had  no  money  for  the  true  food.  Which 
being  translated  out  of  parable  into  fact,  is  simply  this, 
that  our  efforts  may  and  do  win  for  us  the  lower  satis- 
factions which  meet  our  transitory  and  superficial  neces- 
sities, but  that  no  effort  of  ours  can  secure  for  us  the 
loftier  blessings  which  slake  the  diviner  thirsts  of  im- 


148  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lv. 

mortal  souls.  A  man  lands  in  a  far  country  with  Eng- 
lish shillings  in  his  pocket,  but  he  finds  that  no  coins  go 
there  but  thalers,  or  francs,  or  dollars,  or  the  like ;  and 
his  money  is  only  current  in  his  own  land,  and  he  must 
have  it  changed  before  he  can  make  his  purchases.  So 
though  he  has  a  pocketful  of  it  he  may  as  well  be  pen- 
niless. 

And,  in  like  fashion,  you  and  I,  with  all  our  strenu- 
ous efforts,  which  we  are  bound  to  make,  and  which 
there  is  joy  in  making,  after  these  lower  good  things 
that  correspond  to  our  efforts,  find  that  we  have  no 
coinage  that  will  buy  the  good  things  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  without  which  we  faint  and  die.  For  them  our 
efforts  are  useless.  Can  a  man  by  his  penitence,  by  his 
tears,  by  his  amendment,  make  it  possible  for  the  conse- 
quences of  his  past  to  be  obliterated,  or  all  changed  in 
their  character  into  fatherly  chastisement?  No!  A 
thousand  times,  no!  The  superficial  notions  of  Chris- 
tianity, which  are  only  too  common  amongst  both  edu- 
cated and  uneducated,  may  say  to  a  man,  '  You  need  no 
divine  intervention,  if  only  you  will  get  up  from  the 
dust,  and  do  your  best  to  keep  up  when  you  are  up. ' 
But  those  who  realise  more  deeply  what  the  significance 
of  sin  is,  and  what  the  eternal  operation  of  its  conse- 
quences upon  the  soul  is,  and  what  the  awful  majesty  of 
a  divine  righteousness  is,  learn  that  the  man  who  has 
sinned  can,  by  nothing  that  he  can  do,  obliterate  that 
awful  fact,  or  reduce  it  to  insignificance,  in  regard  to 
the  divine  relations  to  him.  It  is  only  God  who  can  do 
that.     We  have  no  money. 

So  we  stand  thirsty  and  penniless — a  desperate  condi- 
tion! Ay!  brother,  it  is  desperate,  and  it  is  the  condi- 
tion of  every  one  of  us.     I  wish  I  could  turn  the  gener- 


V.  1]      THE  GREAT  PROCLAMATION        149 

alities  of  my  text  into  the  individuality  of  a  personal 
address.  I  wish  I  could  bring  its  wide-flowing  benefi- 
cence to  a  sharp  point  that  might  touch  your  conscience, 
heart,  and  will.  I  cannot  do  that;  you  must  do  it  for 
yourself. 

'  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth. '  Will  you  pause  for  a 
moment,  and  say  to  yourself,  'That  is  I'?  'And  he 
that  hath  no  money ' — that  is  I.  '  Come  ye  to  the 
waters ' — that  is  I.  The  proclamation  is  for  thine  ear 
and  for  thy  heart ;  and  the  gift  is  for  thy  hand  and  thy 
lips. 

II.  In  what  this  offer  consists. 

They  tell  an  old  story  about  the  rejoicings  at  the  coro- 
nation of  some  great  king,  when  there  was  set  up  in  the 
market-place  a  triple  fountain,  from  each  of  whose  three 
lips  flowed  a  different  kind  of  rare  liquor  which  any  man 
who  chose  to  bring  a  pitcher  might  fill  it  with,  at  his 
choice.  Notice  my  text,  '  come  ye  to  the  waters  '  .  .  . 
'  buy  wine  and  milk. '  The  great  fountain  is  set  up  in 
the  market-place  of  the  world,  and  every  man  may 
come ;  and  whichever  of  this  glorious  triad  of  effluents 
he  needs  most,  there  his  lip  may  glue  itself  and  there  it 
may  drink,  be  it  '  water  '  that  refreshes,  or  '  wine '  that 
gladdens,  or  '  milk  '  that  nourishes.  They  are  all  con- 
tained in  this  one  great  gift  that  flows  out  from  the  deep 
heart  of  God  to  the  thirsty  lips  of  parched  humanity. 

And  what  is  that  gift?  Well,  we  may  say,  salvation; 
or  we  may  use  many  other  words  to  define  the  nature  of 
the  gifts.  I  venture  to  take  a  shorter  one,  and  say,  it 
means  Christ.  He,  and  not  merely  some  truth  about 
Him  and  His  work ;  He  Himself,  in  the  fulness  of  His 
being,  in  the  all- sufficiency  of  His  love,  in  the  reality  of 
His  presence,  in  the  power  of  His  sacrifice,  in  the  daily 


150  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lv. 

derivation,  into  the  heart  that  waits  upon  Him,  of  His 
Hfe  and  His  spirit,  He  is  the  all-sufficient  supply  of 
every  thirst  of  every  human  soul.  Do  we  want  happi- 
ness? Christ  gives  us  His  joy,  abiding  and  full,  and  not 
as  the  world  gives.  Do  we  want  love?  He  gathers  us 
to  His  heart,  in  which  '  there  is  no  variableness,  neither 
shadow  cast  by  turning,'  and  binds  us  to  Himself  by 
bonds  that  death,  the  separator,  vainly  attempts  to 
untie,  and  which  no  unworthiness,  ingratitude  or  cold- 
ness of  ours  will  ever  be  able  to  unloose.  Do  we  want 
wisdom?  He  will  dwell  with  us  as  our  light.  Do  our 
hearts  yearn  for  companionship?  With  Him  we  shall 
never  be  solitary.  Do  we  long  for  a  bright  hope  which 
shall  light  up  the  dark  future,  and  spread  a  rainbow 
span  over  the  great  gorge  and  gulf  of  death?  Jesus 
Christ  spans  the  void,  and  gives  us  unfailing  and  unde- 
ceiving hope.  For  everything  that  you  and  I  need  here 
or  yonder,  in  heart,  in  will,  in  practical  life,  Jesus  Christ 
Himself  is  the  all-sufficient  supply. 

'  My  life  in  death,  my  all  in  all. '  What  is  offered  in 
Him  may  be  described  by  all  the  glorious  and  blessed 
names  which  men  have  invented  to  designate  the  vari- 
ous aspects  of  the  Good.  These  are  the  goodly  pearls 
that  men  seek,  but  there  is  one  of  great  price  which  is 
worth  them  all,  and  gathers  into  itself  all  their  clouded 
and  fragmentary  splendours.  Christ  is  all,  and  the  soul 
that  has  Him  shall  never  thirst. 

'Thou  of  life  the  fountain  art, 
Freely  let  me  take  of  Thee.' 

III.  Lastly,  how  do  we  obtain  the  offered  gifts? 

The  paradox  of  my  text  needs  little  explanation,  '  Buy 
without  money  and  without  price. '  The  contradiction 
on  the  surface  is  but  intended  to  make  emphatic  this 


V.  1]      THE  GREAT  PROCLAMATION        151 

blessed  truth,  which  I  pray  may  reach  your  memories 
and  hearts,  that  the  only  conditions  are  a  sense  of  need, 
and  a  willingness  to  take — nothing  less  and  nothing 
more.  We  must  recognise  our  penury  and  must  aban- 
don self,  and  put  away  all  ideas  of  having  a  finger  in 
our  own  salvation,  and  be  willing — which,  strangely  and 
sadly  enough,  many  of  us  are  not — to  be  under  obliga- 
tions to  God's  unhelped  and  undeserved  love  for  all. 

Cheap  things  are  seldom  valued.  Ask  a  high  price 
and  people  think  that  the  commodity  is  precious.  A 
man  goes  into  a  fair,  for  a  wager,  and  he  carries  with 
/K  ^  him  a  try  full  of  gold  watches  and  offers  to  sell  them 
for  a  farthing  apiece,  and  nobody  will  buy  them.  It 
does  not,  I  hope,  degrade  the  subject,  if  I  say  Jesus 
Christ  comes  into  the  market-place  of  the  world  with 
His  hands  full  of  the  gifts  which  His  pierced  hands  have 
bought,  that  He  may  give  them  away.  He  says,  '  Will 
you  take  them?  '  And  you,  and  you,  and  you,  pass  by 
on  the  other  side,  and  go  away  to  another  merchant, 
and  buy  dearly  things  that  are  not  worth  the  having. 

'  My  father,  my  father,  if  the  prophet  had  bid  thee  do 
some  great  thing,  wouldst  thou  not  have  done  it? ' 
Would  you  not?  Swing  at  the  end  of  a  pole,  with 
hooks  in  your  back;  measure  all  the  way  from  Cape 
Comorin  to  the  Himalayas,  lying  down  on  your  face  and 
rising  at  each  length ;  do  a  hundred  things  which  hea- 
thens and  Koman  Catholics  and  unspiritual  Protestants 
think  to  be  the  way  to  get  salvation ;  deny  yourselves 
things  that  you  would  like  to  do ;  do  things  that  you  do 
not  want  to  do ;  give  money  that  you  would  like  to  keep ; 
avoid  habits  that  are  very  sweet,  go  to  church  or  chapel 
when  you  have  no  heart  for  worship ;  and  so  try  to  bal- 
ance the  account.     If  the  prophet  had  bid  thee  do  some 


152  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lv. 

great  thing,  thou  wouldst  have  done  it.  How  much 
rather  when  he  says,  '  Wash,  and  be  clean.'  '  Nothing 
in  my  heart  I  bring.'  You  do  not  bring  anything. 
'Simply  to  Thy  Cross  I  cling.'  Do  you?  Do  you? 
Jesus  Christ  catches  up  the  '  comes  '  of  my  text,  and  He 
says,  '  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy 
laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest. '  '  If  any  man  thirst, 
let  him  come  unto  Me  and  drink. '  Brethren,  I  lay  it  on 
your  hearts  and  consciences  to  answer  Him — never  mind 
about  me — to  answer  Him :  '  Sir,  give  me  this  water 
that  I  thirst  not. ' 

GOD'S    WAYS  AND   MAN'S 

'  For  My  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways  My  ways, 
saith  the  Lord.  9.  For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are 
My  ways  higher  than  your  ways,  and  My  thoughts  than  your  thoughts.' 
—Isaiah  lv.  8,  9. 

Scripture  gives  us  no  revelations  concerning  God  merely 
in  order  that  we  may  know  about  Him.  These  words 
are  grand  poetry  and  noble  theology,  but  they  are 
meant  practically  and  in  fiery  earnestness.  The  '  for ' 
at  the  beginning  of  each  clause  points  us  back  to  the 
previous  statement,  and  both  of  the  verses  of  our  text 
are  in  different  ways  its  foundation.  And  what  has  pre- 
ceded is  this :  '  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way  and  the 
unrighteous  man  his  thoughts,  and  let  him  return  unto 
the  Lord,  for  He  will  have  mercy  upon  him,  and  to  our 
God,  for  He  will  abundantly  pardon.'  That  is  why 
the  prophet  dilates  upon  the  difference  between  the 
'  thoughts  '  and  the  '  ways  '  of  God  and  of  men. 

If  we  look  at  these  two  verses  a  little  more  closely  we 
shall  perceive  that  they  by  no  means  cover  the  same 
ground  nor  suggest  the  same  idea  as  to  the  relationship 
between  God's  '  ways '  and  '  thoughts '  and  ours.     The 


vs.  8,9]        GOD'S  WAYS  AND  MAN'S  153 

former  of  them  speaks  of  unlikeness  and  opposition,  the 
latter  of  elevation  and  superiority ;  the  former  of  them 
is  the  basis  of  an  indictment  and  an  exhortation,  the 
latter  is  the  basis  of  an  encouragement  and  a  promise. 
The  former  of  them  is  the  reason  why  '  the  wicked  '  and 
*  unrighteous  man  '  ought  to  and  must  '  turn  '  from  '  his 
ways '  and  '  thoughts, '  the  latter  of  them  is  the  reason 
why,  '  turning, '  he  may  be  sure  that  the  Lord  '  will 
abundantly  pardon.' 

And  so  we  have  here  two  things  to  consider  in  refer- 
ence to  the  relation  between  the  divine  purposes  and  acts 
and  man's  purposes  and  acts.  First,  the  antagonism, 
and  the  indictment  and  exhortation  that  are  based  upon 
that;  second,  the  analogy  but  superiority,  and  the  ex- 
hortation and  hope  that  are  built  upon  that.  Let  me 
deal,  then,  with  these  separately. 

I.  We  have  here  an  unlikeness  declared,  and  upon 
that  is  rested  an  appeal. 

Notice  the  remarkable  order  and  alternation  of  pro- 
nouns in  the  first  verse.  ^My  thoughts  are  not  your 
thoughts, '  saith  the  Lord.  The  things  that  God  thinks 
and  purposes  are  not  the  things  that  man  thinks  and 
purposes,  and  therefore,  because  the  thoughts  are  differ- 
ent, the  outcomes  of  them  in  deeds  are  divergent.  God's 
'  ways  '  are  His  acts,  the  manner  and  course  of  His  work- 
ing considered  as  a  path  on  which  He  moves,  and  on 
which,  in  some  sense,  we  can  also  journey.  Our  '  ways  ' 
— our  manner  of  life — are  not  parallel  with  His,  as  they 
should  be. 

But  that  opposition  is  expressed  with  a  remarkable 
variation.  Observe  the  change  of  pronouns  in  the  two 
clauses.  First,  ''My  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts  ' — 
you  have  not  taken  My  truth  into  your  minds,  nor  My 


154  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lv. 

purposes  into  your  wills;  you  do  not  think  God's 
thoughts.  Therefore — '  your  ways  (instead  of  '  My, '  as 
we  should  have  expected,  to  keep  the  regularity  of  the 
parallelism)  are  not  My  ways ' — I  repudiate  and  abjure 
your  conduct  and  condemn  it  utterly. 

Now,  of  course,  in  this  charge  of  man's  unlikeness  to 
God,  there  is  no  contradiction  of,  nor  reference  to,  man's 
natural  constitution,  in  which  there  are,  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  the  likeness  of  the  child  with  the  parent  and 
the  unlikeness  between  the  creature  and  the  Creator. 
If  our  thoughts  were  not  in  a  measure  like  God's 
thoughts,  we  should  know  nothing  about  Him.  If  our 
thoughts  were  not  like  God's  thoughts,  we  should  have 
no  standard  for  life  or  thinking.  Eighteousness  and 
beauty  and  truth  and  goodness  are  the  same  things  in 
heaven  and  earth,  and  alike  in  God  and  man.  We  are 
made  after  His  image,  poor  creatures  though  we  be;  and 
though  there  must  ever  be  a  gulf  of  unlikeness,  which 
we  cannot  bridge,  between  the  thoughts  of  Him  whose 
knowledge  has  no  growth  nor  uncertainty,  whose  wis- 
dom is  infinite  and  all  whose  nature  is  boundless  light, 
and  our  knowledge,  and  must  ever  be  a  gulf  between  the 
workings  and  ways  of  Him  who  works  without  effort, 
and  knows  neither  weariness  nor  limitation,  and  our 
work,  so  often  foiled,  so  always  toilsome,  yet  in  all  the 
unlikeness  there  is  (and  no  man  can  denude  himself  of 
it)  a  likeness  to  the  Father.  For  the  image  in  which 
God  made  man  at  the  beginning  is  not  an  image  that  it 
is  in  the  power  of  men  to  cast  away,  and  in  the  worst  of 
his  corruptions  and  the  widest  of  his  departures  he  still 
bears  upon  him  the  signs  of  likeness  '  to  Him  that  cre- 
ated him.'  The  coin  is  rusty,  battered,  defaced;  but 
still  legible  are  the   head  and   the  writing.     '  Whose 


vs.  8, 9]       GOD'S  WAYS  AND  MAN'S  155 

image  and  superscription  hath  it?  '  Render  unto  God 
the  things  that  are  declared  to  be  God's,  because  they 
bear  His  likeness  and  are  stamped  with  His  signature. 

But  that  very  necessary  and  natural  likeness  between 
God  and  man  makes  more  solemnly  sinful  the  voluntary 
unlikeness  which  we  have  brought  upon  ourselves.  If 
there  were  no  analogy,  there  could  be  no  contrast.  If 
God  and  man  were  utterly  unlike,  then  there  would  be 
no  evil  in  our  unlikeness  and  no  need  for  our  repentance. 

The  true  state  for  each  of  us  is  that  we  should,  as  the 
great  astronomer  said  he  had  done  in  regard  to  his  own 
science,  'think  God's  thoughts  after  Him,'  and  have  our 
minds  filled  with  His  truth  and  our  wills  all  harmonised 
with  His  purposes,  and  that  we  should  thus  make  our 
ways  to  run  parallel  with  the  ways  of  God.  The 
blessedness,  the  peace,  the  true  manhood  of  a  man,  are 
that  his  ways  and  thoughts  should  be  like  God's.  And 
so  my  text  comes  with  its  indictment — You  who  by  na- 
ture were  formed  in  His  image,  you  to  whom  it  is  open 
to  sympathise  with  His  designs,  to  harmonise  your  wills 
with  His  will,  and  to  bring  all  the  dark  and  crooked 
ways  in  which  you  walk  into  full  parallelism  with  His 
way — you  have  departed  into  darkness  of  unlikeness, 
and  in  thought  and  in  ways  are  the  opposites  of  God. 

Mark  how  wonderfully,  in  the  simple  language  of  my 
text,  deep  truths  about  this  sin  of  ours  are  conveyed. 
Notice  its  growth  and  order.  It  begins  with  a  heart  and 
mind  that  do  not  take  in  God's  thoughts,  truths,  pur- 
poses, desires,  and  then  the  alienated  will  and  the  dark- 
ened understanding  and  the  conscience  which  has  closed 
itself  against  His  imperative  voice  issue  afterwards  in 
conduct  which  He  cannot  accept  as  in  any  way  corre- 
sponding with  His.     First  comes  the  thought  unrecep- 


156  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lv. 

tive  of  God's  thought,  and  then  follow  ways  contrary  to 
God's  ways. 

Notice  the  profound  truth  here  in  regard  to  the  essen- 
tial and  deepest  evil  of  all  our  evil.  '  Your  thoughts  ' ; 
^your  ways,' — self-dependence  and  self-confidence  are 
the  master-evils  of  humanity.  And  every  sin  is  at  bot- 
tom the  result  of  saying — '  I  will  not  conform  myself  to 
God,  but  I  am  going  to  please  myself,  and  take  my  own 
way. '  My  own  way  is  never  God's  way ;  my  own  way 
■^  is  always  the  devil's  way.  And  the  root  of  all  sin  lies 
in  these  two  strong,  simple  words,  '  Your  thoughts  not 
Mine ;  your  ways  not  Mine. ' 

Notice,  too,  how  there  are  suggested  the  misery  and 
retribution  of  this  unlikeness.  '  If  you  will  not  make 
My  thoughts  your  thoughts,  I  shall  not  take  your  ways 
as  My  ways.  I  will  leave  you  to  them. '  '  You  will  be 
filled  with  the  fruit  of  your  own  devices.  I  shall  not 
incorporate  your  actions  into  My  great  scheme  and  pur- 
pose. '     Men 

'Would  not  know  His  ways, 
And  He  has  left  them  to  their  own.' 

So  here  we  have  the  solemn  indictment  brought  by 
God's  own  voice  against  us  all.  The  criminality  of  our 
unlikeness  to  Him  rests  upon  our  original  likeness. 

The  unlikeness  roots  itself  in  thought,  and  blossoms  in 
the  poisonous  flower  of  God-displeasing  acts.  It  brings 
down  upon  our  heads  the  solemn  retribution  of  separa- 
tion from  Him,  and  being  filled  with  the  fruit  of  our 
own  devices.  Such  is  the  indictment  brought  against 
every  soul  of  man  upon  the  earth,  and  there  is  built 
upon  it  the  call  to  repentance  and  change,  '  let  the 
wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his 
thoughts. '    The  question  rises  in  many  a  heart,  '  How 


vs.  8,9]       GOD'S  WAYS  AND  MAN'S  157 

am  I  to  forsake  these  paths  on  which  my  feet  have  so 
longed  walked  ?  '  And  if  I  do,  what  about  all  the  years 
behind  me,  full  of  wild  wanderings  and  thoughts  in  all 
of  which  God  was  not? 

II.  The  second  verse  of  our  text  meets  that  despairing 
question.  It  proclaims  the  elevation  of  God's  ways  and 
thoughts  above  ours,  and  thereon  bases  the  assurance  of 
pardon. 

The  relation  is  not  only  one  of  unlikeness  and  opposi- 
tion, but  it  is  also  one  of  analogy  and  superiority.  The 
former  clause  began  with  thoughts  which  are  the  par- 
ents of  ways,  and,  as  befits  the  all-seeing  Judge,  laid 
bare  first  the  hidden  discord  of  man's  heart  and  will, 
ere  it  pointed  to  the  manifest  antagonism  of  his 
doings.  This  clause  begins  with  God's  ways,  from 
which  alone  men  can  reach  the  knowledge  of  His 
thoughts.  The  first  follows  the  order  of  God's  knowl- 
edge of  man;  the  second,  that  of  man's  knowledge  of 
God. 

It  is  a  wonderful  and  beautiful  turn  which  the  prophet 
here  gives  to  the  thought  of  the  transcendent  elevation 
of  God.  The  heavens  are  the  very  type  of  the  unattain- 
able ;  and  to  say  that  they  are  '  higher  than  the  earth  ' 
seems,  at  first  sight,  to  be  but  to  say,  '  No  man  hath 
ascended  into  the  heavens,'  and  you  sinful  men  must 
grovel  here  down  upon  your  plain,  whilst  they  are  far 
above,  out  of  your  reach.  But  the  heavens  bend.  They 
are  an  arch,  and  not  a  straight  line.  They  touch  the 
horizon ;  and  there  come  from  them  the  sweet  influences 
of  sunshine  and  of  rain,  of  dew  and  of  blessing,  which 
bring  fertility.  So  they  are  not  only  far  and  unattaina- 
ble, but  friendly  and  beneficent,  and  communicative  of 
good.     Like    them,  in    true   analogy  but  yet  infinite 


158  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  lv. 

superiority  to  the  best  and  noblest  in  man,  is  the  bound- 
less mercy  of  our  pardoning  God : 

'  The  glorious  sky,  embracing  all, 

Is  like  its  Maker's  love, 
Wherewith  encompassed,  great  and  small 
In  peace  and  order  move.' 

'As  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  My 
ways  higher  than  your  ways. '  The  special  '  thought ' 
and  '  way '  which  is  meant  here  is  God's  thought  and 
way  about  sin.  There  are  three  points  here  on  which  I 
would  touch  for  a  moment.  First,  God's  way  of  deal- 
ing with  sin  is  lifted  up  above  all  human  example. 
There  is  such  a  thing  as  pardoning  mercy  amongst  men. 
It  is  a  faint  analogy  of,  as  it  is  an  offshoot  from,  the 
divine  pardon,  but  all  the  forgivingness  of  the  most  pla- 
cable and  long-suffering  and  gladly  pardoning  of  men 
is  but  as  earth  to  heaven  compared  with  the  greatness 
of  His.  Our  forgiveness  has  its  limitations.  We  some- 
times cannot  pardon  as  freely  as  we  thought,  because 
there  blends  with  our  indignation  against  evil  a  pas- 
sionate personal  sense  of  wrong  done  to  us  which  we 
cannot  get  rid  of,  and  that  disturbs  the  freeness  and  the 
joyfulness  of  many  a  human  pardon.  But  God's  pardon 
is  undisturbed  and  hindered  by  any  sense  of  personal 
resentment,  though  sin  is  an  offense  against  Him,  and 
in  its  freeness,  its  fulness,  its  frequency,  and  its  sovereign 
power  to  melt  away  that  which  it  forgives,  it  towers 
above  the  loftiest  of  earth's  beauties  of  forgiveness,  as 
the  starry  heavens  do  above  the  flat  plain. 

God's  pardon  is  above  all  human  example,  even 
though,  having  once  been  received  by  us,  it  ought  to 
become  for  us  the  pattern  by  which  we  shape  and  regu- 
late our  own  lives.  Nothing  of  which  we  have  any  ex- 
perience in  ourselves  or  in  others  is  more  than  as  a  drop 


vs.  8, 9]       GOD'S  WAYS  AND  MAN'S  159 

to  the  ocean  compared  with  the  absolute  fulness  and 
perfect  freeness  and  unwearied  frequency  of  His  for- 
giveness. '  He  will  abundantly  pardon. '  He  will  mul- 
tiply pardon.  '  With  Him  there  is  plenteous  redemp- 
tion.' We  think  we  have  stretched  the  elasticity  of 
long  suffering  and  forgiveness  further  than  we  might 
have  been  reasonably  expected  to  do  if  seven  times  we 
forgive  the  erring  brother,  but  God's  measure  of  pardon 
is  seventy  times  seven,  two  perfectnesses  multiplied  into 
themselves  perfectly;  for  the  measure  of  His  forgive- 
ness is  boundless,  and  there  is  no  searching  of  the  depths 
of  His  pardoning  mercy.  You  cannot  weary  Him  out, 
you  cannot  exhaust  it.  It  is  full  at  the  end  as  at  the 
beginning ;  and  after  all  its  gifts  still  it  remains  true, 
'  With  Him  is  the  multiplying  of  redemption. ' 

Again,  God's  way  of  dealing  with  sin  surpasses  all 
our  thought.  All  religion  has  been  pressed  with  this 
problem,  how  to  harmonise  the  perfect  rectitude  of  the 
divine  nature  and  the  solemn  claims  of  law  with  forgive- 
ness. All  religions  have  borne  witness  to  the  fact  that 
men  are  dimly  aware  of  the  discord  and  dissonance  be- 
tween themselves  and  the  divine  thoughts  and  ways; 
and  a  thousand  altars  proclaim  to  us  how  they  have  felt 
that  something  must  be  done  in  order  that  forgiveness 
might  be  possible  to  an  all-righteous  and  Sovereign 
Judge.  The  Jew  knew  that  God  was  a  pardoning  God, 
but  to  him  that  fact  stood  as  needing  much  explanation 
and  much  light  to  be  thrown  upon  its  relations  with  the 
solemn  law  under  which  he  lived.  We  have  Jesus 
Christ.  The  mystery  of  forgiveness  is  solved,  in  so  far 
as  it  is  capable  of  solution,  in  Him  and  in  Him  alone. 
His  death  somewhat  explains  how  God  is  just  and  the 
Justifier  of  him   that  believeth.     High    above    man's 


160  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lv. 

thoughts  this  great  central  mystery  of  the  Gospel  rises, 
that  with  God  there  is  forgiveness  and  with  God  there  is 
perfect  righteousness.  The  Cross  as  the  basis  of  pardon 
is  the  central  mystery  of  revelation ;  and  it  is  not  to  be 
expected  that  our  theories  shall  be  able  to  sound  the 
depths  of  that  great  act  of  the  divine  love.  Perhaps  our 
plummets  do  not  go  to  the  bottom  of  the  bottomless 
after  all ;  but  is  it  needful  that  we  should  have  gone  to 
the  rim  of  the  heavens,  and  round  about  it  on  the  out- 
side, before  we  rejoice  in  the  sunshine?  Is  it  needful 
that  we  should  have  traversed  the  abysses  of  the  heav- 
ens, and  passed  from  star  to  star  and  told  their  num- 
bers, before  we  can  say  that  they  are  bright,  or  before 
we  can  walk  in  their  light?  We  do  not  need  to  under- 
stand the  '  how '  in  order  to  be  sure  of  the  fact  that 
Christ's  death  is  our  forgiveness.  Do  not  be  in  such  a 
hurry  as  some  people  are  nowadays,  to  declare  that  the 
doctrine  of  the  Cross  is  contrary  to  man's  conceptions. 
It  surpasses  them,  and  the  very  fact  that  it  surpasses 
ought  to  stop  us  from  pronouncing  that  it  contradicts. 
'As  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  My 
thoughts  higher  than  your  thoughts.' 

Lastly,  we  are  taught  here  that  God's  way  of  dealing 
with  sin  is  the  very  highest  point  of  His  self-revelation. 
There  are  many  glories  of  the  divine  nature  set  forth  in 
all  His  ways,  but  the  loftiest  of  them  all  is  this,  that  He 
can  neutralise  and  destroy  the  fact  of  man's  transgres- 
sing, wiping  it  out  by  pardon ;  and  in  the  very  act  of 
pardon  reconstituting  in  purity,  and  with  a  heart  for  all 
holiness,  the  sinful  men  whom  He  forgives.  This  is  the 
shining  apex  of  all  that  He  has  done,  rising  above  crea- 
tion and  every  other  '  way  '  of  His,  as  high  as  the  lofti- 
est heavens  are  above  the  earth. 


vs.  8, 9]      GOD'S  WAYS  AND  MAN'S  161 

Therefore,  have  a  care  of  all  forms  of  Christianity 
which  do  not  put  God's  pardoning  mercy  in  the  fore- 
ground. They  are  maimed,  and  in  them  mist  and  cloud 
have  covered  with  a  roof  of  doleful  grey  the  low-lying 
earth,  and  separated  it  from  the  highest  heavens.  The 
true  glory  of  the  revelation  of  God  gathers  round  that 
central  Cross ;  and  there,  in  that  Man  dying  upon  it  in 
the  dark — the  sacrifice  for  a  world's  sin — is  the  loftiest, 
most  heavenly  revelation  of  the  all-revealing  God. 
Strike  out  the  Cross  from  Christianity,  or  weaken  its 
aspect  as  a  message  of  forgiveness  and  redemption,  and 
you  have  quenched  its  brightest  light,  and  dragged  it 
down  to  be  but  a  little  higher,  if  any,  than  many  an- 
other scheme  of  other  moralists,  philosophers,  poets,  and 
religious  teachers.  The  distinctive  glory  of  Christian- 
ity is  this — it  tells  us  how  God  sweeps  away  sin. 

And  so  my  last  thought  is  that,  if  we  desire  to  see  up 
on  the  highest  heavens  of  God's  character,  we  must  go 
down  into  the  depths  of  the  consciousness  of  our  own 
sin,  and  learn  first,  how  unlike  our  ways  and  thoughts 
are  to  God,  ere  we  can  understand  how  high  above  us, 
and  yet  beneficently  arching  over  us,  are  His  ways  and 
thoughts  to  us.  We  lie  beneath  the  heavens  like  some 
foul  bog  full  of  black  ooze,  rotten  earth  and  putrid 
water,  where  there  is  nothing  green  or  fair.  But  the 
promise  of  the  bending  heavens,  with  their  sweet  influ- 
ences, declares  the  possibility  of  reclaiming  even  that 
waste,  and  making  it  rejoice  and  blossom  as  the  rose. 
Spread  yourselves  out,  dear  friends,  in  lowly  submission 
and  penitent  acknowledgment  beneath  the  all-vivifying 
mercy  of  that  shining  heaven  of  God's  pardon;  and 
then  the  old  promise  will  be  fulfilled  in  you :  '  Truth 
shall  spring  out  of  the  earth,  and  righteousness  shall 

VOL.   II.  L, 


162  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lvi. 

look  down  from  heaven ;  yea,  the  Lord  shall  give  that 
which  is  good,  and  our  land ' — barren  and  poisoned  as 
it  has  been — responding  to  the  skyey  influences,  '  shall 
yield  her  increase. ' 

ARE   WE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW? 

A  NEW  year's   sermon 
'  To-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day,  and  much  more  abundant.' — Isaiah  lvi.  12. 

These  words,  as  they  stand,  are  the  call  of  boon  com- 
panions to  new  revelry.  They  are  part  of  the  prophet's 
picture  of  a  corrupt  age  when  the  men  of  influence  and 
position  had  thrown  away  their  sense  of  duty,  and  had 
given  themselves  over,  as  aristocracies  and  plutocracies 
are  ever  tempted  to  do,  to  mere  luxury  and  good  living. 
They  are  summoning  one  another  to  their  coarse  orgies. 
The  roystering  speaker  says,  '  Do  not  be  afraid  to  drink ; 
the  cellar  will  hold  out.  To-day's  carouse  will  not 
empty  it ;  there  will  be  enough  for  to-morrow. '  He  for- 
gets to-morrow's  headaches;  he  forgets  that  on  some  to- 
morrow the  wine  will  be  finished ;  he  forgets  that  the 
fingers  of  a  hand  may  write  the  doom  of  the  rioters  on 
the  very  walls  of  the  banqueting  chamber. 

What  have  such  words,  the  very  motto  of  insolent 
presumption  and  short-sighted  animalism,  to  do  with 
New  Year's  thoughts?  Only  this,  that  base  and  foolish 
as  they  are  on  such  lips,  it  is  possible  to  lift  them  from 
the  mud,  and  take  them  as  the  utterance  of  a  lofty  and 
calm  hope  which  will  not  be  disappointed,  and  of  a  firm 
and  lowly  resolve  which  may  ennoble  life.  Like  a  great 
many  other  sayings,  they  may  fit  the  mouth  either  of  a 
sot  or  of  a  saint.  All  depends  on  what  the  things  are 
which  we  are  thinking  about  when  we  use  them.     There 


V.  12]  ARE  WE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW  ?     163 

are  things  about  which  it  is  absurd  and  worse  than  ab- 
surd to  say  this,  and  there  are  things  about  which  it  is 
the  soberest  truth  to  say  it.  So  looking  forward  into  the 
merciful  darkness  of  another  year,  we  may  regard  these 
words  as  either  the  expressions  of  hopes  which  it  is  folly 
to  cherish,  or  of  hopes  that  it  is  reasonable  to  entertain. 

I.  This  expectation,  if  directed  to  any  outward  things, 
is  an  illusion  and  a  dream. 

These  coarse  revellers  into  whose  lips  our  text  is  put 
only  meant  by  it  to  brave  the  future  and  defy  to-mor- 
row in  the  riot  of  their  drunkenness.  They  show  us  the 
vulgarest,  lowest  form  which  the  expectation  can  take, 
a  form  which  I  need  say  nothing  about  now. 

But  I  may  just  note  in  passing  that  to  look  forward 
principally  as  anticipating  pleasure  or  enjoyment  is  a 
very  poor  and  unworthy  thing.  We  weaken  and  lower 
every  day,  if  we  use  our  faculty  of  hope  mainly  to  paint 
the  future  as  a  scene  of  delights  and  satisfactions.  We 
spoil  to-day  by  thinking  how  we  can  turn  it  to  the  ac- 
count of  pleasure.  We  spoil  to-morrow  before  it  comes, 
and  hurt  ourselves,  if  we  are  more  engaged  with  fancy- 
ing how  it  will  minister  to  our  joy,  than  how  we  can 
make  it  minister  to  our  duty.  It  is  base  and  foolish  to 
be  forecasting  our  pleasures;  the  true  temper  is  to  be 
forecasting  our  work. 

But,  leaving  that  consideration,  let  us  notice  how  use- 
less such  anticipation,  and  how  mad  such  confidence, 
as  that  expressed  in  the  text  is,  if  directed  to  anything 
short  of  God. 

We  are  so  constituted  as  that  we  grow  into  a  persua- 
sion that  what  has  been  will  be,  and  yet  we  can  give  no 
sufficient  reason  to  ourselves  of  why  we  expect  it.  '  The 
uniformity  of  the  course  of  nature  is  the  corner-stone, 


164  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lvi. 

not  only  of  physical  science,  but,  in  a  more  homely  form, 
of  the  wisdom  which  grows  with  experience.  We  all 
believe  that  the  sun  will  rise  to-morrow  because  it  rose 
to-day,  and  on  all  the  yesterdays.  But  there  was  a  to- 
day which  had  no  yesterday,  and  there  will  be  a  to-day 
which  will  have  no  to-morrow.  The  sun  will  rise  for 
the  last  time.  The  uniformity  had  a  beginning  and  will 
have  an  end. 

So,  even  as  an  axiom  of  thought,  the  anticipation  that 
things  will  continue  as  they  have  been  because  they  have 
been,  seems  to  rest  on  an  insufficient  basis.  How  much 
more  so,  as  to  our  own  little  lives  and  their  surround- 
ings! There  the  only  thing  which  we  may  be  quite  sure 
of  about  to-morrow  is  that  it  will  not  be  '  as  this  day. ' 
Even  for  those  of  us  who  may  have  reached,  for  exam- 
ple, the  level  plateau  of  middle  life,  where  our  position 
and  tasks  are  pretty  well  fixed,  and  we  have  little  more 
to  expect  than  the  monotonous  repetition  of  the  same 
duties  recurring  at  the  same  hour  every  day — even  for 
such  each  day  has  its  own  distinctive  character.  Like  a 
flock  of  sheep  they  seem  all  alike,  but  each,  on  closer  in- 
spection, reveals  a  physiognomy  of  its  own.  There  will 
be  so  many  small  changes  that  even  the  same  duties  or 
enjoyments  will  not  be  quite  the  same,  and  even  if  the 
outward  things  remained  absolutely  unaltered,  we  who 
meet  them  are  not  the  same.  Little  variations  in  mood 
and  tone,  diminished  zest  here,  weakened  power  there, 
other  thoughts  breaking  in,  and  over  and  above  all  the 
slow,  silent  change  wrought  on  us  by  growing  years, 
make  the  perfect  reproduction  of  any  past  impossible. 
So,  however  familiar  may  be  the  road  which  we  have  to 
traverse,  however  uneventfully  the  same  our  days  may 
sometimes  for  long  spaces    in  our  lives  seem  to  be, 


V.  12]  ARE  WE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW?     165 

though  to  ourselves  often  our  day's  work  may  appear  as 
a  mill-horse  round,  yet  in  deepest  truth,  if  we  take  into 
account  the  whole  sum  of  the  minute  changes  in  it  and 
in  us,  it  may  be  said  of  each  step  of  our  journey,  '  Ye 
have  not  passed  this  way  heretofore. ' 

But,  besides  all  this,  we  know  that  these  breathing- 
times  when  '  we  have  no  changes, '  are  but  pauses  in  the 
storm,  landing-places  in  the  ascent,  the  interspaces  be- 
tween the  shocks.  However  hope  may  tempt  us  to 
dream  that  the  future  is  like  the  present,  a  deeper  wis- 
dom lies  in  all  our  souls  which  says  '  No. '  Drunken 
bravery  may  front  that  darkness  with  such  words  as 
these  of  our  text,  but  the  least  serious  spirit,  in  its  most 
joyous  moods,  never  quite  succeeds  in  forgetting  the  sol- 
emn probabilities,  possibiUties,  and  certainties  which 
lodge  in  the  unknown  future.  So  to  a  wise  man  it  is 
ever  a  sobering  exercise  to  look  forward,  and  we  shall 
be  nearest  the  truth  if  we  take  due  account,  as  we  do  to- 
day, of  the  undoubted  fact  that  the  only  thing  certain 
about  to-morrow  is  that  it  will  not  be  as  this  day. 

There  are  the  great  changes  which  come  to  some  one 
every  day,  which  may  come  to  any  of  us  any  day,  which 
will  come  to  all  of  us  some  day.  Some  of  us  will  die 
this  year;  on  a  day  in  our  new  diaries  some  of  us  will 
make  no  entry,  for  we  shall  be  gone.  Some  of  us  will 
be  smitten  down  by  illness;  some  of  us  will  lose  our 
dearest ;  some  of  us  will  lose  fortune.  Which  of  us  it  is 
to  be,  and  where  within  these  twelve  months  the  blow 
is  to  fall,  are  mercifully  hidden.  The  only  thing  that 
we  certainly  know  is  that  these  arrows  will  fly.  The 
thing  we  do  not  know  is  whose  heart  they  will  pierce. 
This  makes  the  gaze  into  the  darkness  grave  and  solemn. 
There  is  ever  something  of  dread  in  Hope's  blue  eyes. 


166  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lvi. 

True,  the  ministry  of  change  is  blessed  and  helpful ; 
true,  the  darkness  which  hides  the  future  is  merciful 
and  needful,  if  the  present  is  not  to  be  marred.  But 
helpful  and  merciful  as  they  are,  they  invest  the  un- 
known to-morrow  with  a  solemn  power  which  it  is  good, 
though  sobering,  for  us  to  feel,  and  they  silence  on  every 
lip  but  that  of  riot  and  foolhardy  debauchery  the  pre- 
sumptuous words,  '  To-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day,  and 
much  more  abundant. ' 

II.  But  yet  there  is  a  possibility  of  so  using  the  words 
as  to  make  them  the  utterance  of  a  sober  certainty  which 
will  not  be  put  to  shame. 

So  long  as  our  hope  and  anticipations  creep  along  the 
low  levels  of  earth,  and  are  concerned  with  external  and 
creatural  good,  their  language  can  never  rise  beyond, 
'  To-morrow  may  be  as  this  day. '  Of tenest  they  reach 
only  to  the  height  of  the  wistful  wish,  '  May  it  be  as  this 
day! '  But  there  is  no  need  for  our  being  tortured  with 
such  slippery  possibilities.  We  may  send  out  our  hope 
like  Noah's  dove,  not  to  hover  restlessly  over  a  heaving 
ocean  of  change,  but  to  light  on  firm,  solid  certainty, 
and  fold  its  wearied  wings  there.  Forecasting  is  ever 
close  by  foreboding.  Hope  is  interwoven  with  fear,  the 
golden  threads  of  the  weft  crossing  the  dark  ones  of  the 
warp,  and  the  whole  texture  gleaming  bright  or  gloom- 
ing black  according  to  the  angle  at  which  it  is  seen.  So 
is  it  always  until  we  turn  our  hope  away  from  earth  to 
God,  and  fill  the  future  with  the  light  of  His  presence 
and  the  certainty  of  His  truth.  Then  the  mists  and 
doubts  roll  away ;  we  get  above  the  region  of  '  perhaps  ' 
into  that  of  '  surely ' ;  the  future  is  as  certain  as  the 
past,  hope  as  assured  of  its  facts  as  memory,  prophecy 
as  veracious  as  history. 


V.  12]   ARE  WE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW  ?    167 

Looking  forward,  then,  let  us  not  occupy  ourselves 
with  visions  which  we  know  may  or  may  not  come  true. 
Let  us  not  feed  ourselves  with  illusions  which  may  make 
the  reality,  when  it  comes  to  shatter  them,  yet  harder  to 
bear.  But  let  us  make  God  in  Christ  our  hope,  and  pass 
from  peradventures  to  certitudes ;  from  '  To-morrow 
maybe  as  this  day — would  that  it  might,'  to  'It  shall 
be,  it  shall  be,  for  God  is  my  expectation  and  my  hope. ' 
We  have  an  unchanging  and  an  inexhaustible  God,  and 
He  is  the  true  guarantee  of  the  future  for  us.  The 
more  we  accustom  ourselves  to  think  of  Him  as  shaping 
all  that  is  contingent  and  changeful  in  the  nearest  and 
in  the  remotest  to-morrow,  and  as  being  Himself  the 
immutable  portion  of  our  souls,  the  calmer  will  be  our 
outlook  into  the  darkness,  and  the  more  bright  will  be 
the  clear  light  of  certainty  which  burns  for  us  in  it. 

To-day's  wealth  may  be  to-morrow's  poverty,  to-day's 
health  to-morrow's  sickness,  to-day's  happy  companion- 
ship of  love  to-morrow's  aching  solitude  of  heart,  but 
to-day's  God  will  be  to-morrow's  God,  to-day's  Christ 
will  be  to-morrow's  Christ.  Other  fountains  may  dry 
up  in  heat  or  freeze  in  winter,  but  this  knows  no  change, 
'  in  summer  and  winter  it  shall  be. '  Other  fountains 
may  sink  low  in  their  basins  after  much  drawing,  but 
this  is  ever  full,  and  after  a  thousand  generations  have 
drawn  from  it,  its  stream  is  broad  and  deep  as  ever. 
Other  springs  may  be  left  behind  on  the  march,  and  the 
wells  and  palm-trees  of  each  Elim  on  our  road  may  be 
succeeded  by  a  dry  and  thirsty  land  where  no  water  is, 
but  this  spring  follows  us  all  through  the  wilderness, 
and  makes  music  and  spreads  freshness  ever  by  our 
path.  We  can  forecast  nothing  beside;  we  can  be  sure 
of  this,  that  God  will  be  with  us  in  all  the  days  that  lie 


168  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  lvi. 

before  us.  What  may  be  round  the  next  headland  we 
know  not;  but  this  we  know,  that  the  same  sunshine 
will  make  a  broadening  path  across  the  waters  right  to 
where  we  rock  on  the  unknown  sea,  and  the  same  un- 
moving  mighty  star  will  burn  for  our  guidance.  So  we 
may  let  the  waves  and  currents  roll  as  they  list — or 
rather  as  He  wills,  and  be  little  concerned  about  the  in- 
cidents or  the  companions  of  our  voyage,  since  He  is 
with  us.  We  can  front  the  unknown  to-morrow,  even 
when  we  most  keenly  feel  how  solemn  and  sad  are  the 
things  it  may  bring. 

'  It  can  bring  with  it  nothing 
But  He  will  bear  us  through.' 

If  only  our  hearts  be  fixed  on  God  and  we  are  feeding 
our  minds  and  wills  on  Him,  His  truth  and  His  will, 
then  we  may  be  quite  certain  that,  whatever  goes,  our 
truest  riches  will  abide,  and  whoever  leaves  our  little 
company  of  loved  ones,  our  best  Friend  will  not  go  away. 
Therefore,  lifting  our  hopes  beyond  the  low  levels  of 
earth,  and  making  our  anticipations  of  the  future  the 
reflection  of  the  brightness  of  God  thrown  on  that  else 
blank  curtain,  we  may  turn  into  the  worthy  utterance 
of  sober  and  saintly  faith,  the  folly  of  the  riotous  sensu- 
alist when  he  said,  '  To-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day.' 

The  past  is  the  mirror  of  the  future  for  the  Christian ; 
we  look  back  on  all  the  great  deeds  of  old  by  which  God 
has  redeemed  and  helped  souls  that  cried  to  Him,  and 
we  find  in  them  the  eternal  laws  of  His  working.  They 
are  all  true  for  to-day  as  they  were  at  first ;  they  remain 
true  forever.  The  whole  history  of  the  past  belongs  to 
us,  and  avails  for  our  present  and  for  our  future.  'As 
we  have  heard,  so  have  we  seen  in  the  city  of  our  God. ' 


V.  12]  ARE  WE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW  ?     169 

To-day's  experience  runs  on  the  same  lines  as  the  stories 
of  the  '  years  of  old, '  which  are  *  the  years  of  the  right 
hand  of  the  Most  High. '  Experience  is  ever  the  parent 
of  hope,  and  the  latter  can  only  build  with  the  bricks 
which  the  former  gives.  So  the  Christian  has  to  lay 
hold  on  all  that  God's  mercy  has  done  in  the  ages  that 
are  gone  by,  and  because  He  is  a  '  faithful  Creator '  to 
transmute  history  into  prophecy,  and  triumph  in  that 
^  the  God  of  Jacob  is  our  refuge. ' 

Nor  only  does  the  record  of  what  He  has  been  to  others 
come  in  to  bring  material  for  our  forecast  of  the  future, 
but  also  the  remembrance  of  what  He  has  been  to  our- 
selves. Has  He  been  with  us  in  six  troubles?  We  may 
be  sure  He  will  not  abandon  us  at  the  seventh.  He  is 
not  in  the  way  of  beginning  to  build  and  leaving  His 
work  unfinished.  Remember  what  He  has  been  to  you, 
and  rejoice  that  there  has  been  one  thing  in  your  lives 
which,  you  may  be  sure,  will  always  be  there.  Feed 
your  certain  hopes  for  to-morrow  on  thankful  remem- 
brances of  many  a  yesterday.  '  Forget  not  the  works  of 
God, '  that  you  may  '  set  your  hopes  on  God. '  Let  our 
anticipations  base  themselves  on  memory,  and  utter 
themselves  in  the  prayer,  'Thou  hast  been  my  help; 
leave  me  not,  neither  forsake  me,  0  God  of  my  salva- 
tion. '  Then  the  assurance  that  He  whom  we  know  to 
be  good  and  wise  and  strong  will  shape  the  future,  and 
Himself  be  the  Future  for  us,  will  take  all  the  fear  out 
of  that  forward  gaze,  will  condense  our  light  and  unsub- 
stantial hopes  into  solid  realities,  and  set  before  us  an 
endless  line  of  days,  in  each  of  which  we  may  gain  more 
of  Him  whose  face  has  brightened  the  past  and  will 
brighten  the  future,  till  days  shall  end  and  time  open 
into  eternity. 


170  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lvi. 

III.  Looked  at  in  another  aspect,  these  words  may  be 
taken  as  the  vow  of  a  firm  and  lowly  resolve. 

There  is  a  future  which  we  can  but  very  slightly  influ- 
ence, and  the  less  we  look  at  that  the  better  every  way. 
But  there  is  also  a  future  which  we  can  mould  as  we 
wish — the  future  of  our  own  characters,  the  only  future 
which  is  really  ours  at  all — and  the  more  clearly  we  set 
it  before  ourselves  and  make  up  our  minds  as  to  whither 
we  wish  it  to  be  tending,  the  better.  In  that  region,  it 
is  eminently  true  that  '  to-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day, 
and  much  more  abundant.'  The  law  of  continuity 
shapes  our  moral  and  spiritual  characters.  What  I  am 
to-day,  I  shall  increasingly  be  to-morrow.  The  awful 
power  of  habit  solidifies  actions  into  customs,  and  pro- 
longs the  reverberation  of  every  note  once  sounded,  along 
the  vaulted  roof  of  the  chamber  where  we  live.  To-day 
is  the  child  of  yesterday  and  the  parent  of  to-morrow. 

That  solemn  certainty  of  the  continuance  and  increase 
of  moral  and  spiritual  characteristics  works  in  both  good 
and  bad,  but  with  a  difference.  To  secure  its  full  bless- 
ing in  the  gradual  development  of  the  germs  of  good, 
there  must  be  constant  effort  and  tenacious  resolution. 
So  many  foes  beset  the  springing  of  the  good  seed  in  our 
hearts — what  with  the  flying  flocks  of  light-winged  fugi- 
tive thoughts  ever  ready  to  swoop  down  as  soon  as  the 
sower's  back  is  turned  and  snatch  it  away,  what  with 
the  hardness  of  the  rock  which  the  roots  soon  encounter, 
what  with  the  thick-sown  and  quick-springing  thorns — 
that  if  we  trust  to  the  natural  laws  of  growth  and  neg- 
lect careful  husbandry,  we  may  sow  much  but  we  shall 
gather  little.  But  to  inherit  the  full  consequences  of 
that  same  law  working  in  the  growth  and  development 
of  the  evil  in  us,  nothing  is  needed  but  carelessness. 


V.  12]  ARE  WE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW  ?    171 

Leave  it  alone  for  a  year  or  two  and  the  '  fruitful  field 
will  be  a  forest,'  a  jungle  of  matted  weeds,  with  a  strag- 
gling blossom  where  cultivation  had  once  been. 

But  if  humbly  we  resolve  and  earnestly  toil,  looking 
for  His  help,  we  may  venture  to  hope  that  our  charac- 
ters will  grow  in  goodness  and  in  likeness  to  our  dear 
Lord,  that  we  shall  not  cast  away  our  confidence  nor 
make  shipwreck  of  our  faith,  that  each  new  day  shall 
find  in  us  a  deeper  love,  a  perfecter  consecration,  a  more 
joyful  service,  and  that  so,  in  all  the  beauties  of  the 
Christian  soul  and  in  all  the  blessings  of  the  Christian 
life,  '  to-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day,  and  much  more 
abundant. '  '  To  him  that  hath  shall  be  given. '  '  The 
path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining  light,  that  shineth 
more  and  more  until  the  noontide  of  the  day. ' 

So  we  may  look  forward  undismayed,  and  while  we 
recognise  the  darkness  that  wraps  to-morrow  in  regard 
to  all  mundane  affairs,  may  feed  our  fortitude  and 
fasten  our  confidence  on  the  double  certainties  that  we 
shall  have  God  and  more  of  God  for  our  treasure,  that 
we  shall  have  likeness  to  Him  and  more  of  likeness  in 
our  characters.  Fleeting  moments  may  come  and  go. 
The  uncertain  days  may  exercise  their  various  ministry 
of  giving  and  taking  away,  but  whether  they  plant  or 
root  up  our  earthly  props,  whether  they  build  or  destroy 
our  earthly  houses,  they  will  increase  our  riches  in  the 
heavens,  and  give  us  fuller  possession  of  deeper  draughts 
from  the  inexhaustible  fountain  of  living  waters. 

How  dreadfully  that  same  law  of  the  continuity  and 
development  of  character  works  in  some  men  there  is  no 
need  now  to  dwell  upon.  By  slow,  imperceptible,  cer- 
tain degrees  the  evil  gains  upon  them.  Yesterday's  sin 
smooths  the  path   for  to-day's.     The   temptation  once 


172  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lvi. 

yielded  to  gains  power.  The  crack  in  the  embankment 
which  lets  a  drop  or  two  ooze  through  is  soon  a  great 
hole  which  lets  in  a  flood.  It  is  easier  to  find  a  man 
who  has  never  done  a  wrong  thing  than  to  find  a  man 
who  has  done  it  only  once.  Peter  denied  his  Lord  thrice, 
and  each  time  more  easily  than  the  previous  time.  So, 
before  we  know  it,  the  thin  gossamer  threads  of  single 
actions  are  twisted  into  a  rope  of  habit,  and  we  are  '  tied 
with  the  cords  of  our  sins. '  Let  no  man  say,  '  Just  for 
once  I  may  venture  on  evil ;  so  far  I  will  go  and  no  far- 
ther. '  Nay,  '  to-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day,  and  much 
more  abundant. ' 

How  important,  then,  the  smallest  acts  become  when 
we  think  of  them  as  thus  influencing  character!  The 
microscopic  creatures,  thousands  of  which  will  go  into 
a  square  inch,  make  the  great  white  cliffs  that  beetle 
over  the  wildest  sea  and  front  the  storm.  So,  perma- 
nent and  solid  character  is  built  up  out  of  trivial  actions, 
and  this  is  the  solemn  aspect  of  our  passing  days,  that 
they  are  making  us. 

We  might  well  tremble  before  such  a  thought,  which 
would  be  dreadful  to  the  best  of  us,  if  it  were  not  for 
pardoning  mercy  and  renewing  grace.  The  law  of  reap- 
ing what  we  have  sown,  or  of  continuing  as  we  have 
begun,  may  be  modified  as  far  as  our  sins  and  failures 
are  concerned.  The  entail  may  be  cut  off,  and  to-morrow 
need  not  inherit  to-day's  guilt,  nor  to-day's  habits.  The 
past  may  be  all  blotted. out  through  the  mercy  of  God  in 
Christ.  No  debt  need  be  carried  forward  to  another 
page  of  the  book  of  our  lives,  for  Christ  has  given  Him- 
self for  us,  and  He  speaks  to  us  all — '  Thy  sins  be  for- 
given thee. '  No  evil  habit  need  continue  its  dominion 
over  us,  nor  are  we  obliged  to  carry  on  the  bad  tradition 


V.  12]    ARE  WE  SURE  OF  TO-MORROW?    173 

of  wrongdoing  into  a  future  day,  for  Christ  lives,  and 
*  if  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature ;  old 
things  are  passed  away,  all  things  are  become  new. ' 

So  then,  brethren,  let  us  humbly  take  the  confidence 
which  these  words  may  be  used  to  express,  and  as  we 
stand  on  the  threshold  of  a  new  year  and  wait  for  the 
curtain  to  be  drawn,  let  us  print  deejD  on  our  hearts  the 
uncertainty  of  our  hold  of  all  things  here,  nor  seek  to 
build  nor  anchor  on  these,  but  lift  our  thoughts  to  Him, 
who  will  bless  the  future  as  He  has  blessed  the  past,  and 
will  even  enlarge  the  gifts  of  His  love  and  the  help  of 
His  right  hand.  Let  us  hope  for  ourselves  not  the  con- 
tinuance or  increase  of  outward  good,  but  the  growth  of 
our  souls  in  all  things  lovely  and  of  good  report,  the 
daily  advance  in  the  love  and  likeness  of  our  Lord. 

So  each  day,  each  succeeding  wave  of  the  ocean  of 
time  shall  cast  up  treasures  for  us  as  it  breaks  at  our 
feet.  As  we  grow  in  years,  we  shall  grow  in  the  grace 
and  knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ, 
until  the  day  comes  when  we  shall  exchange  earth  for 
heaven.  That  will  be  the  sublimest  application  of  this 
text,  when,  dying,  we  can  calmly  be  sure  that  though 
to-day  be  on  this  side  and  to-morrow  on  the  other  bank 
of  the  black  river,  there  will  be  no  break  in  the  contin- 
uity, but  only  an  infinite  growth  in  our  life,  and  heav- 
en's to-morrow  shall  be  as  earth's  to-day,  and  much 
more  abundant. 


FLIMSY   GAEMENTS 

'Their  webs  shall  not  become  garments.' — Isaiah  lix.  6. 
'I  counsel  thee  to  buy  of  me  .  .  .  white  raiment,  that  thou  mayest  be 
clothed,  and  that  the  shame  of  thy  nakedness  do  not  appear.' — Rev.  iii.  18. 

The  force  of  these  words  of  the  prophet  is  very  obvious. 
He  has  been  pouring  out  swift,  indignant  denunciation 
on  the  evil-doers  in  Israel;  and,  says  he,  'they  hatch 
cockatrice's  eggs  and  spin  spiders'  webs,'  pointing,  as  I 
suppose,  to  the  patient  perseverance,  worthy  of  a  better 
cause,  which  bad  men  will  exercise  in  working  out  their 
plans.  Then  with  a  flash  of  bitter  irony,  led  on  by  his 
imagination  to  say  more  than  he  had  meant,  he  adds 
this  scathing  parenthesis,  as  if  he  said,  '  Yes,  they  spin 
spiders'  webs,  elaborate  toil  and  creeping  contrivance, 
and  what  comes  of  it  all!  The  flimsy  foul  thing  is  swept 
away  by  God's  besom  sooner  or  later.  A  web  indeed! 
but  they  will  never  make  a  garment  out  of  it.  It  looks 
like  cloth,  but  it  is  useless. '  That  is  the  old  lesson  that 
all  sin  is  profitless  and  comes  to  nothing. 

I  venture  to  connect  with  that  strongly  figurative  dec- 
laration of  the  essential  futility  of  godless  living,  our 
second  text,  in  which  Jesus  uses  a  similar  figure  to  ex- 
press one  aspect  of  His  gifts  to  the  believing  soul.  He 
is  ready  to  clothe  it,  so  that  '  being  clothed,  it  will  not 
be  found  naked.' 

I.  Sin  clothes  no  man  even  here. 

Notice  in  passing  what  a  hint  there  is  of  the  toil  and 
trouble  that  men  are  so  willing  to  take  in  a  wrong 
course.  Hatching  and  spinning  both  suggest  protracted, 
sedulous  labour.  And  then  the  issue  of  it  all  is — 
nothing. 

Take  the  plainest  illustrations  of  this  truth  first — the 
breach  of  common  laws  of  morality,  the  indulgence,  for 

174 


V.  6]  FLIMSY  GARMENTS  175 

instance,  in  dissipation.  A  man  gets  a  certain  coarse 
delight  out  of  it,  but  what  does  he  get  besides?  A  weak- 
ened body,  a  tyrannous  craving,  ruined  prospects,  often- 
est  poverty  and  shame,  the  loss  of  self-respect  and  love; 
of  moral  excellences,  of  tastes  for  what  is  better.  He 
is  not  a  beast,  and  he  cannot  live  for  pure  animalism 
without  injuring  himself. 

Then  take  actual  breaches  of  human  laws.  How  sel- 
dom these  '  pay, '  even  in  the  lowest  sense.  Thieves  are 
always  poor.  The  same  experience  of  futility  dogs  all 
coarse  and  palpable  breaches  of  morality.  It  is  always 
true  that  '  He  that  breaketh  a  hedge,  a  serpent  shall  bite 
him.' 

The  reasons  are  not  far  to  seek.  This  is,  on  the 
whole,  God's  world,  a  world  of  retribution.  Things 
are,  on  the  whole,  on  the  side  of  goodness.  God  is  in 
the  world,  and  that  is  an  element  not  to  be  left  out  in 
the  calculation.  Society  is  on  the  side  of  goodness  to 
a  large  extent.  The  constitution  of  a  man's  own  soul, 
which  God  made,  works  in  the  same  direction.  Young 
men  who  are  trembling  on  the  verge  of  youthful  yield - 
ings  to  passion,  are  tempted  to  fancy  that  they  can  sow 
sin  and  not  reap  suffering  or  harm.  Would  that  they 
settled  it  in  their  thoughts  that  he  who  fires  a  fuse  must 
expect  an  explosion! 

But  the  same  rule  applies  to  every  godless  form  of  life. 
Take  our  Manchester  temptation,  money  or  success  in 
business.  Take  ambition.  Take  culture,  literary  fame. 
Take  love  and  friendship.  What  do  they  all  come  to,  if 
godless?  I  do  not  point  to  the  many  failures,  but  sup- 
pose success:  would  that  make  you  a  happy  man?  If 
you  won  what  you  wanted,  would  it  be  enough?  What 
'  garments '  for  your  conscience,  for  your  sense  of  sin, 


176  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH       [ch.  lx. 

for  your  infinite  longings  would  success  in  any  godless 
course  provide?  You  would  have  what  you  wanted, 
and  what  would  it  bring  with  it?  Cares  and  troubles 
and  swift  satiety,  and  not  seldom  incapacity  to  enjoy 
what  you  had  won  with  so  much  toil.  If  you  gained 
the  prize,  you  would  find  clinging  to  it  something  that 
you  did  not  bargain  for,  and  that  took  most  of  the  dazzle 
away  from  it. 

II.  The  rags  are  all  stripped  off  some  day. 

Death  is  a  becoming  naked  as  to  the  body,  and  as  to 
all  the  occupations  that  terminate  with  bodily  life.  It 
necessarily  involves  the  loss  of  possessions,  the  cessation 
of  activities,  the  stripping  off  of  self-deceptions,  and  ex- 
posure to  the  gaze  of  the  Judge,  without  defence.  The 
godless  soul  will  '  be  found  naked  '  and  ashamed.  All 
'  works  of  darkness, '  laden  with  rich  blossom  or  juicy 
fruit  though  they  have  seemed  to  be,  will  then  be  seen 
to  be  in  tragic  truth  '  fruitless.'  A  life's  spinning  and 
weaving,  and  not  a  rag  to  cover  the  toiler  after  all!  Is 
that  '  productive  labour  '  ? 

III.  Christ  will  clothe  you. 

'  White  raiment. '     Pure  character.     Covering  before 
the  Judge.     Festal  robe  of  Victory. 
*  Buy  ' — how  ?     By  giving  up  self. 

THE  SUNLIT  CHURCH 

'Arise,  shine;  for  thy  light  is  come,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  is  risen  upon 
thee.  2.  For,  behold,  the  darkness  shall  cover  the  earth,  and  gross  dark- 
ness the  people ;  but  the  Lord  shall  arise  upon  thee,  and  His  glory  shall  be 
seen  upon  thee.  3.  And  the  Gentiles  shall  come  to  thy  light,  and  kings  to 
the  brightness  of  thy  rising.' — Isaiah  lx.  1-3. 

The  personation  of  Israel  as  a  woman  runs  through  the 
whole  of  this  second  portion  of  Isaiah's  prophecy.  We 
see  her  thrown  on  the  earth  a  mourning  mother,  a 


vs.  1-3]  THE  SUNLIT  CHURCH  177 

shackled  captive.  We  hear  her  summoned  once  and 
again  to  awake,  to  arise,  to  shake  herself  from  the  dust, 
to  loose  the  bands  of  her  neck.  These  summonses  are 
prophecies  of  the  impending  Messianic  deliverance.  The 
same  circle  of  truths,  in  a  somewhat  different  aspect,  is 
presented  in  the  verses  before  us.  The  prophet  sees  the 
earth  wrapped  in  a  funeral  pall  of  darkness,  and  a  beam 
of  more  than  natural  light  falling  on  one  prostrate  form. 
The  old  story  is  repeated,  Zion  stands  in  the  light,  while 
Egypt  cowers  in  gloom.  The  light  which  shines  upon 
her  is  '  the  Glory  of  the  Lord, '  the  ancient  brightness 
that  dwelt  between  the  cherubim  within  the  veil  in  the 
secret  place  of  the  Most  High,  and  is  now  come  out  into 
the  open  world  to  envelop  the  desolate  captive.  Thus 
touched  by  the  light  she  becomes  light,  and  in  her  turn 
is  bidden  to  shine.  There  is  'a  very  remarkable  corre- 
spondence reiterated  in  my  text  between  the  illuminat- 
ing God  and  the  illuminated  Zion.  The  word  for  shine 
is  connected  with  the  word  for  light,  and  might  fairly 
be  rendered  '  lighten, '  or  '  be  light. '  Twice  the  phrase 
'  thy  light '  is  employed ;  once  to  mean  the  light  which 
is  thine  because  it  shines  on  thee;  once  to  mean  the 
light  which  is  thine  because  it  shines  from  thee.  The 
other  word,  three  times  repeated,  for  rising,  is  the  tech- 
nical word  which  expresses  the  sunrise,  and  it  is  applied 
both  to  the  flashing  glory  that  falls  upon  Zion  and  to  the 
light  that  gleams  from  her.  Touched  by  the  sun,  she 
becomes  a  sun,  and  blazes  in  her  heaven  in  a  splendour 
that  draws  men's  hearts.  So,  then,  if  that  be  the  fair 
analysis  of  the  words  before  us,  they  present  to  us  some 
thoughts  bearing  on  the  Missionary  work  of  the  Church, 
and  I  gather  them  all  up  in  three — the  fact,  the  ringing 
summons,  and  the  confident  promise. 

VOL.  II.  M 


178  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH        [ch.  lx. 

I.  Now,  as  to  the  fact. 

Beneath  the  poetry  of  my  text  there  lie  very  definite 
conceptions  of  a  very  solemn  and  grave  character,  and 
these  conceptions  are  the  foundation  of  the  ringing  sum- 
mons that  follows,  and  which  reposes  upon  a  double 
basis — viz.  ''for  thy  light  is  come,'  and  '■for  darkness 
covers  the  earth. '  There  is  a  double  element  in  the  rep- 
resentation. We  have  a  darkened  earth,  and  a  sunlit 
and  a  sunlike  church ;  and  unless  we  hold  these  two  con- 
victions— both  of  them — in  firm  grasp,  and  that  not 
merely  as  convictions  that  influence  our  understand- 
ing, but  as  ever  present  forces  acting  on  our  emotions, 
our  consciences,  our  wills,  we  shall  not  do  the  work 
which  God  has  set  us  to  do  in  the  world.  I  need  not 
dwell  long  on  the  former  of  these,  or  speak  of  that 
funeral  pall  that  wraps  the  whole  earth.  Only  remem- 
ber that  it  is  no  darkness  that  came  from  His  hand  who 
forms  the  light  and  creates  darkness,  but  is  like  the 
smoke  that  lies  over  our  great  cities — the  work  of  many 
an  earth-born  fire,  whose  half-consumed  foulness  hides 
the  sun  from  us.  If  we  take  the  sulphureous  and  smoky 
pall  that  wraps  the  earth,  and  analyse  its  contents,  they 
are  these:  the  darkness  of  ignorance,  the  darkness  of 
sorrow,  the  darkness  of  sin.  Of  ignorance;  for  through- 
out the  wide  regions  that  lie  beneath  that  covering 
spread  over  all  nations  is  there  any  certitude  about  God, 
about  man,  about  morals,  about  responsibilities,  about 
eternity?  Peradventures,  guesses,  dreams,  precious 
fragments  of  truth,  twisted  in  with  the  worst  of  lies, 
noble  aspirations  side  by  side  with  bestial  representa- 
tions— these  are  the  things  on  which  our  brethren  re- 
pose, or  try  to  repose.  We  do  not  forget  that  light 
which  lighteneth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world. 


vs.  1-3]  THE  SUNLIT  CHURCH  179 

We  do  not  forget,  of  course,  that  everywhere  there  are 
feelings  after  Him,  and  everywhere  there  are  gleams 
and  glimpses  of  a  vanishing  light,  else  life  were  impos- 
sible ;  but  oh,  dear  brethren,  let  us  not  forget  either  that 
the  people  sit  in  darkness  of  ignorance,  which  is  the 
saddest  darkness  that  can  afflict  men. 

And  it  is  a  darkness  of  sorrow,  for  all  the  ills  that 
flesh  is  heir  to  press,  unalleviated  and  unsustained  by 
any  known  heljDer  in  the  heavens,  upon  millions  of  our 
fellows.  They  stand,  as  the  great  German  poet  describes 
himself  as  standing,  in  one  of  the  most  pathetic  of  his 
lyrics,  before  the  marble  image  of  the  fair  goddess,  who 
has  pity  on  her  face  and  beauty  raying  from  her  limbs, 
but  she  has  no  arms.  So  tears  fall  undried.  The  light- 
hearted  savage  is  a  fiction.  What  a  heavy  gloom  lies 
upon  his  past  and  his  present,  which  darkens  into  an  im- 
penetrable mist  that  wraps  and  hides  the  future! 

And  the  darkness  is  a  darkness  of  sin  as  well  as  of 
sorrow  and  of  ignorance.  On  that  point  I  need  not 
dwell.  We  all  believe  that  all  have  '  sinned  and  come 
short  of  the  glory  of  God, '  and  we  all  believe  that  idola- 
try, as  we  see  it,  and  as  it  is  wrought  out,  is  an  ally  of 
impurity  and  of  sin.  The  process  is  this:  men  make 
gods  in  their  own  image,  and  the  gods  make  devils  of 
the  men.  'They  that  make  them  are  like  unto  them,  so 
is  every  one  that  trusteth  in  them. '  We  need  no  other 
principle  than  that  to  account  for  the  degradation  of 
heathenism  and  for  the  obscenities  and  foul  transgres- 
sion within  the  very  courts  of  the  temple. 

Now,  dear  friends,  that  I  may  not  dwell  too  long  upon 
the  A  B  C  of  our  belief,  let  me  urge  you  in  one  sentence 
to  be  on  your  guard  against  present-day  tendencies  which 
weaken  the  force  of  this  solemn,  tragical  conviction  as 


180  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lx. 

to  the  realities  of  heathendom.  The  new  science  of  com- 
parative religion  has  done  much  for  us.  I  am  not  say- 
ing one  word  against  this  pursuit,  or  the  conclusions 
which  are  drawn  from  it.  But  I  pray  you  to  remember 
that  the  underlying  truths  buried  beneath  the  system 
that  any  men  hold  as  their  religion  are  one  thing,  and 
the  practical  working  of  that  system,  as  we  see  it  in 
daily  life,  is  altogether  another.  The  actual  character 
of  heathenism  is  not  to  be  learned  from  the  sacred  books 
of  all  nations  and  the  precious  gleams  of  wisdom  and 
feeling  after  the  Divine  which  we  recognise  in  man.  As 
a  simple  matter  of  fact,  all  over  the  world  the  religion  of 
heathen  nations  is  a  mass  of  obscenity,  intertwined  so 
closely  with  nobler  thoughts  that  the  two  seem  to  be  in- 
separable. Unalleviated  sorrows,  hideous  foulnesses,  a 
gross  ignorance  covering  all  the  most  important  reali- 
ties for  men — these  are  the  facts  with  which  we  have 
to  grapple.     Do  not  let  us  forget  them. 

And  on  the  other  side,  remember  the  contrasted  pic- 
ture here  of  the  sunlit  and  sunny  church.  The  incarna- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ  is  the  fulfilment  of  my  text.  '  We 
behold  His  glory,  the  glory  as  of  the  only  begotten  of 
the  Father,  full  of  grace  and  truth.'  If  you  and  I  are 
Christians,  we  are  bound  to  believe  in  Him  as  the  ex- 
clusive source  of  certainty.  We  hear  from  Him  no  per- 
adventure,  but  His  word  is,  '  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto 
you,'  and  on  that  word  we  rest  all  our  knowledge  of 
God,  of  duty,  of  man,  and  of  the  future.  Instead  of 
fears,  doubt,  perhapses,  we  have  a  living  Christ  and  His 
rock-word.  And  in  Him  is  all  joy,  and  in  Him  is  the 
cleansing  from  all  sin.  And  this  threefold  radiance, 
into  which  the  one  pure  light  may  be  analysed,  falls 
upon  us.     It  falls  all  over  the  world  as  well ;  but  they 


I 


vs.  1-3]  THE  SUNLIT  CHURCH  181 

into  whose  hearts  it  has  come,  they  whose  faces  are 
turned  to  it,  they  receive  it  in  a  sense  in  which  the  un- 
receptive  and  unresponsive  darkness  of  the  world  does 
not.  The  light  shineth  in  the  darkness,  and  the  dark- 
ness will  have  none  of  it,  and  so  it  is  darkness  yet.  The 
light  shineth  upon  us,  and  if  by  His  mercy  we  have 
opened  our  hearts  to  it,  then,  according  to  the  profound 
teaching  of  this  context,  we  are  not  only  a  sun-lighted 
but  a  sunlike  Church,  and  to  us  the  commandment 
comes,  'Arise,  shine,  for  thy  light  is  come,'  and  has 
turned  thy  poor  darkness  into  a  sun  too. 

If  we  have  the  light  we  shall  be  light.  That  is  but 
putting  in  a  picturesque  form  the  very  central  truth  of 
Christianity.  The  last  word  of  the  gospel  is  transforma- 
tion. We  become  like  Him  if  we  live  near  Him,  and 
the  end  for  which  the  Master  became  like  unto  us  in  His 
incarnation  and  passion  was  that  we  might  become  like 
to  Him  by  the  reception  of  His  very  own  life  unto  our 
souls.  Light  makes  many  a  surface  on  which  it  falls 
flash,  but  in  the  optics  of  earth  it  is  the  rays  which  are 
not  absorbed  that  are  reflected ;  but  in  this  loftier  region 
the  illumination  is  not  superficial  but  inward,  and  it  is 
the  light  which  is  swallowed  up  within  us  that  then 
comes  forth  from  us.  Christ  will  dwell  in  our  hearts, 
and  we  shall  be  like  some  poor  little  diamond-shaped 
pane  of  glass  in  a  cottage  window  which,  when  the  sun 
smites  it,  is  visible  over  miles  of  the  plain.  If  that  sun 
falls  upon  us,  its  image  will  be  mirrored  in  our  hearts 
and  flashing  in  our  lives.  The  clouds  that  lie  over  the 
sunset,  though  in  themselves  they  be  but  poor,  grey, 
and  moist  vapour,  when  smitten  by  its  beneflcent  radi- 
ance, become  not  unworthy  ministers  and  attendants 
upon  its  glory.     So,  my  brethren,  it  may  be  with  us,  for 


182  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lx. 

Christ  comes  to  be  our  light.  Because  He  is  in  us  and 
with  us  we  are  changed  into  His  likeness,  and  the  names 
that  are  most  appropriate  to  Him  He  shares  with  us.  Is 
He  the  '  Son  '  ? — we  are  sons.  Is  He  '  the  Light  of  the 
world  '  ?  His  own  lips  tell  us,  '  Ye  are  the  light  of  the 
world.'  Is  He  the  Christ?  The  Psalm  says:  *  Touch 
not  my  Christs,  and  do  My  prophets  no  harm. '  Critics 
have  quarrelled  over  these  last  chapters  of  the  Book  of 
Isaiah,  as  to  whom  the  servant  of  the  Lord  is ;  whether 
he  is  the  personal  or  collective  Israel,  whether  he  is 
Christ  or  His  Church.  Let  us  take  the  lesson  that  He 
and  we  are  so  united  that  His  office  that  made  the  union 
possible,  wherein  He  was  sacrificed  on  the  Cross  for  us 
all — belongs  by  derivation  to  His  servants,  and  that  He, 
the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  moves  in  the  heavens  circled 
by  many  another  sun. 

So,  dear  friends,  these  two  convictions  of  these  two 
facts,  the  dark  earth,  the  sunlit,  sunlike  church,  lie  at 
the  basis  of  all  our  missionary  work.  If  once  we  begin 
to  doubt  about  them,  if  once  we  begin  to  think  that  men 
have  got  a  good  deal  of  light  already,  and  can  do  very 
well  without  much  more,  or  if  we  at  all  are  hesitant 
about  our  possession  of  the  light,  and  the  certitudes  and 
the  joys  that  are  in  it,  then  good-bye  to  our  missionary 
zeal.  We  shall  soon  begin  to  ask  the  question,  '  To 
what  purpose  is  this  waste?  ' — though  the  lips  that  first 
asked  it,  by  the  bye,  did  not  much  recommend  it — and 
shall  consider  that  money  and  resources  and  precious 
lives  are  too  precious  to  be  thrown  away  thus.  But  if  we 
rightly  appreciate  the  force  of  these  twin  principles,  then 
we  shall  be  ready  to  listen  to  the  ringing  summons. 

II.  We  have  here,  in  the  second  place,  based  upon 
these  two  facts,  the  summons  to  the  Church. 


vs.  1-3]  THE  SUNLIT  CHURCH  183 

'  Shine,  for  thy  light  is  come. '  If  we  have  light,  we 
are  light.  If  we  are  light,  we  shall  shine ;  but  the  shin- 
ing is  not  altogether  spontaneous  and  effortless.  Stars 
do  not  need  to  be  bidden  to  shine  nor  candles  either ; 
but  we  need  the  exhortation,  because  there  are  many 
things  that  dim  the  brilliance  of  our  light  and  interfere 
with  its  streaming  forth.  True,  the  property  of  light  is 
to  shine,  but  we  can  rob  the  inward  liguu  of  its  beams. 
The  silent  witness  of  a  Christian  life  transformed  into 
the  likeness  of  Jesus  Christ  is,  perhaps,  the  best  contri- 
bution that  any  of  us  can  make  to  the  spread  of  His 
kingdom.  It  is  with  us  as  it  is  with  the  great  lights  in 
the  heavens.  'There  is  no  speech  nor  language;  their 
voice  is  not  heart, '  yet,  '  their  line  has  gone  through  all 
the  earth,  and  their  words  to  the  end  of  the  world.'  So 
we  may  quietly  ray  out  the  light  in  us  and  witness  the 
transforming  power  of  our  Master  by  the  transparent 
purity  of  our  lives.  But  the  command  suggests  likewise 
effort,  and  that  effort  must  be  in  the  direction  of  the 
specific  vocal  proclamation  of  His  name. 

I  take  both  these  methods  of  fulfilling  the  command 
into  my  view,  in  the  further  remarks  that  I  make,  and 
I  put  that  which  I  have  to  say  upon  this  into  three  sen- 
tences: if  we  are  light,  we  shall  be  able  to  shine;  if  we 
are  light,  we  are  bound  to  shine ;  if  we  are  light,  we 
shall  wish  to  shine.  We  shall  be  able  to  shine.  And 
man  can  manifest  what  he  is  unless  he  is  a  coward. 
Any  man  can  talk  about  the  things  that  are  interesting 
to  him  if  only  they  are  interesting  to  him.  Any  man 
that  has  Jesus  Christ  can  say  so ;  and  perhaps  the  utter- 
ance of  the  simple  personal  conviction  is  the  best  method 
of  proclaiming  His  name.  All  other  things  are  surplus- 
age.    They  are  good  when  they  come,  they  may  be  done 


184  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lx. 

without.  Learning,  eloquence,  and  the  like  of  these, 
are  the  adornments  of  the  lamp,  but  it  does  not  matter 
whether  the  lamp  be  a  gorgeous  affair  of  gilt  and  crys- 
tal, or  whether  it  be  a  poor  piece  of  block  tin;  the  main 
question  is:  are  there  wick  and  oil  in  it?  The  pitcher 
may  be  gold  and  silver,  or  costly  china,  or  it  may  be  a 
poor  potsherd.  Never  mind.  If  there  is  water  in  it,  it 
will  be  precious  to  a  thirsty  lip.  And  so,  dear  brethren, 
I  press  this  upon  you:  every  Christian  man  has  the 
power,  if  he  is  a  Christian,  to  proclaim  his  Master,  and 
if  he  has  the  Light  he  will  be  able  to  show  it.  I  pause 
for  a  moment  to  say  that  this  suggests  for  us  the  condi- 
tion of  all  faithful  and  effectual  witness  for  Jesus  Christ. 
Cultivate  understanding  and  all  other  faculties  as  much 
as  you  like ;  but  oh !  you  Christian  ministers,  as  well  as 
others  in  less  official  and  public  positions,  remember  this : 
the  fitness  to  impart  is  to  possess,  and  that  being  taken 
for  granted,  the  main  thing  is  secured.  As  long  as  the 
electric  light  is  in  contact  with  the  battery,  so  long  does 
it  burn.  Electricians  have  been  trying  during  the  past 
few  years  to  make  accumulators,  things  in  which  they 
can  store  the  influence  and  put  it  away  in  a  corner  and 
use  it  so  that  the  light  need  not  be  in  connection  with 
the  battery ;  and  they  have  not  succeeded — at  least  it  is 
only  a  very  partial  success.  You  and  I  cannot  start 
accumulators.  Let  us  remember  that  personal  contact 
with  Jesus  is  power,  and  only  that  personal  contact  is 
so.  Arise,  shine!  but  if  thou  hast  gone  out  of  the  light, 
thou  wilt  shine  no  more. 

But  again,  if  we  are  light  we  are  bound  to  shine. 
That  is  an  obvious  principle.  The  capacity  to  shine  is 
the  obligation  to  shine,  for  we  are  all  knit  together  by 
such  mystical  cords  in  this  strange  brotherhood  of  hu- 


vs.  1-3]  THE  SUNLIT  CHURCH  185 

manity  that  every  one  of  us  holds  his  possession  as  trust 
property  for  the  use  and  behoof  of  others,  and  in  the 
present  case  that  which  we  have  received,  and  the  price 
at  which  we  have  received  it,  give  an  edge  to  the  keen- 
ness of  the  obhgation,  and  add  a  new  grip  to  the  strin- 
gency of  the  command.  It  is  because  Christ  has  given 
Himself  thus  to  us  that  the  possession  of  Him  binds  us 
to  the  imitation  of  His  example,  and  the  impartation  of 
Him  to  all  our  brethren.  The  obligation  lies  at  our 
doors,  and  cannot  be  delegated  or  devolved. 

If  we  have  light,  we  shall  wish  to  shine.  What  shall 
we  say  about  the  Christian  people  who  never  really  had 
such  a  wish?  God  forbid  that  I  should  say  they  have 
no  light ;  but  this  I  will  say,  it  burns  very  dimly.  Dear 
brethren,  there  is  no  better  test  of  the  depth  and  the 
purity  of  our  personal  attachment  to,  and  possession  of, 
our  Master  than  the  impulse  that  will  spring  from  them 
to  communicate  Him  to  others.  '  Necessity  is  laid  upon 
me,  yea,  woe  is  me  if  I  preach  not. '  That  should  be  the 
word  of  every  one  of  us,  and  it  will  be  so  in  the  measure 
in  which  we  ourselves  have  thoroughly  laid  hold  of 
Jesus  Christ.  '  This  is  a  day  of  good  tidings,  and  we 
cannot  hold  our  peace, '  said  the  handful  of  lepers  in  the 
camp.  '  If  we  are  silent  some  mischief  will  come  to  us. ' 
*  Thj'-  word,  when  I  shut  it  up  in  my  bones  and  said,  I 
will  speak  no  more  in  Thy  name,  was  like  a  fire,  and 
was  weary  of  forbearing  and  I  could  not  stay.' 
Brother,  do  you  know  anything  of  the  divine  necessity 
to  share  your  blessing  with  the  men  around  you?  Did 
you  ever  feel  what  it  was  to  carry  a  burden  of  the  Lord 
that  drove  you  to  speech,  and  left  you  no  rest  until  you 
had  done  what  it  impelled  you  to  do?  If  not,  I  beseech 
you  to  ask  yourselves  whether  you  cannot  get  nearer  to 


186  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lx. 

the  sun  than  away  out  there  on  the  very  edge  of  its  sys- 
tem, receiving  so  few  of  its  beams,  and  these  so  impo- 
tent that  they  can  scarcely  do  more  than  melt  the  sur- 
face of  the  thick-ribbed  ice  that  warps  your  spirit.  If 
we  are  light  we  shall  be  enabled,  we  shall  be  bound,  we 
shall  wish,  to  shine.  Christian  men  and  women,  is  this 
true  of  you? 

III.  Lastly,  notice  here  the  confident  promise. 

'  The  Gentiles  shall  come  to  thy  light,  and  kings  to 
the  brightness  of  thy  rising. '  If  we  have  the  light  we 
shall  be  light ;  if  we  are  light  we  shall  shine,  and  if  we 
shine  we  shall  attract.  Certainly  men  and  women  with 
the  light  of  Christ  in  them  will  draw  others  to  them, 
just  as  many  an  eye  that  cannot  look  undazzled  upon 
the  sun  can  look  upon  it  mirrored  upon  some  polished 
surface.  A  painter  will  fling  upon  his  canvas  a  scene 
that  you  and  I,  with  our  purblind  eyes,  have  looked  at 
hundreds  of  times,  and  seen  no  beauty;  but  when  we 
gaze  on  the  picture,  then  we  know  how  fair  it  is.  There 
is  an  attractive  power  in  the  light  of  Christ  shining  from 
the  face  of  a  man.  Of  course,  we  have  to  moderate  our 
expectations.  We  have  to  remember  that  whilst  it  is 
true  that  some  men  will  come  to  the  light,  it  is  also  true 
that  some  men  '  love  the  darkness,  and  will  not  come  to 
the  light  because  their  deeds  are  evil ' ;  and  we  have  to 
remember  that  we  have  no  right  to  anticipate  rapid  re- 
sults. 'An  inheritance  may  be  begotten  hastily  at  the 
beginning,  but  the  end  thereof  shall  not  be  blessed, '  said 
the  wise  man ;  and  the  history  of  the  Christian  Church 
in  many  of  its  missionary  operations  is  a  sad  commen- 
tary upon  the  saying.  We  must  remember  that  we  can- 
not estimate  how  long  the  preparation  for  a  change, 
which  will  be  developed  swiftly,  may  be.     The  sun  on 


vs.  1-3]  THE  SUNLIT  CHURCH  187 

autumn  mornings  shines  upon  the  fog;  and  the  people 
below,  because  there  is  a  fog,  do  not  know  that  it  is 
shining ;  but  it  is  doing  its  work  on  the  upper  layer  all 
the  while,  and  at  length  eats  its  way  through  the  fleecy 
obstruction,  which  then  swiftly  disappears.  That  must 
be  a  very,  very  long  day  of  which  the  morning  twilight 
has  been  nineteen  hundred  years.  Therefore,  although 
the  vision  tarries,  we  may  fall  back  with  unswerving 
confidence  on  these  words  of  my  text — '  The  Gentiles 
shall  come  to  the  brightness  of  thy  rising. ' 

But  after  all  this  has  been  said,  are  you  satisfied  with 
the  rate  of  progress,  are  you  satisfied  with  the  swiftness 
of  the  fulfilment  of  such  hopes?  Whose  fault  is  it  that 
the  rate  of  progress  is  what  it  is?  Yours  and  mine  and 
our  predecessors'.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  '  hasting  the 
day  of  the  Lord, '  and  there  is  such  a  thing  as  protract- 
ing the  time  of  waiting.  Dear  brethren,  the  secret  of 
our  slow  growth  at  home  and  abroad  lies  in  my  text. 
Fulfil  the  conditions  and  you  will  get  the  result ;  but  if 
you  are  not  shining  by  a  light  which  is  Christ's  light, 
who  promised  that  it  would  have  attraction  or  draw  men 
to  it?  A  great  deal  of  the  work  of  the  Christian  Church 
— but  do  not  let  us  hide  ourselves  in  the  generality  of 
that  word — a  great  deal  of  our  work  is  artificial  light, 
brewed  out  of  retorts,  and  smelling  sulphureous;  and  a 
great  deal  more  of  it  is  the  phosphorescence  that  glim- 
mers above  decay.  If  the  Christian  Church  has  ceased 
in  any  measure,  or  in  any  of  its  members,  to  be  able  to 
attract  by  the  exhibition  of  its  light,  let  the  Christian 
Church  sit  down  and  bethink  itself  of  the  sort  of  light  it 
gives,  and  perhaps  it  will  find  a  reason  for  its  failure. 
It  is  Christ,  the  holy  Christ,  the  loving  Christ,  the  Christ 
in  us  making  us  wise  and  gentle,  it  is  the  Christ  mani- 


188  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lx. 

fested  by  word  and  by  work,  who  will  draw  the  nations 
to  Him. 

So,  men  and  brethren,  do  you  keep  near  your  Master 
and  live  close  by  His  side  till  you  are  drenched  and  satu- 
rated with  His  glory,  and  all  your  cold  vapours  turned 
into  visible  divinity  and  manifested  Jesus.  Keep  near 
to  Him.  As  long  as  a  bit  of  scrap-iron  touches  a  mag- 
net, it  is  a  magnet :  as  soon  as  the  contact  is  broken  it 
ceases  to  attract.  If  you  live  in  the  full  sunshine  of 
Christ  and  have  Him,  not  merely  playing  upon  the  sur- 
face of  your  mind,  but  sinking  deep  down  into  it  and 
transforming  your  whole  being,  then  some  men  will,  as 
they  look  at  you,  be  filled  with  strange  longings,  and 
will  say:  '  Come,  let  us  walk  in  the  light  of  the  Lord.' 
So  may  you  and  I  live,  like  the  morning  star,  which, 
from  its  serene  altitudes,  touched  into  radiance  by  the 
sun  unseen  from  the  darkened  plains,  prophesies  its  ris- 
ing to  a  sleeping  world,  and  is  content  to  be  lost  in  the 
lustre  of  that  unsetting  Light! 

WALLS  AND   GATES 

"Thou  shalt  call  thy  walls  Salvation,  and  thy  gates  Praise.' — Isaiah  lx.  18. 

The  prophet  reaches  the  height  of  eloquence  in  his  mag- 
nificent picture  of  the  restored  Jerusalem,  '  the  city  of 
the  Lord,  the  Zion  of  the  Holy  One  of  Israel. '  To  him 
the  city  stands  for  the  embodiment  of  the  nation,  and 
his  vision  of  the  future  is  moulded  by  his  knowledge  of 
the  past.  Israel  and  Jerusalem  were  to  him  the  embodi- 
ments of  the  divine  idea  of  God's  dwelling  with  men, 
and  of  a  society  founded  on  the  presence  of  God  in  its 
midst.  We  are  not  forcing  meanings  on  his  words 
which  they  will  not  bear,  when  we  see  in  the  society  of 
men  redeemed  by  Christ  the  perfect  embodiment  of  his 


V.  18]  WALLS  AND  GATES  189 

vision.  Nor  is  the  prophet  of  the  New  Testament  doing 
so  when  he  casts  his  vision  of  the  future  which  is  to  fol- 
low Resurrection  and  Judgment  into  a  like  form,  and 
shows  us  the  new  Jerusalem  coming  down  out  of  heaven. 

The  end  of  the  world's  history  is  to  be,  not  a  garden 
but  a  city,  a  visible  community,  bound  together  because 
God  dwells  in  it,  and  yet  not  having  lost  the  blessed 
characteristics  of  the  Garden  from  which  man  set  out 
on  his  long  and  devious  march. 

The  Christian  form  of  the  prophet's  vision  is  the  Chris- 
tian Society,  and  in  that  society,  each  individual  member 
possesses  his  own  portion  of  the  common  blessings,  so  that 
the  great  words  of  this  text  have  a  personal  as  well  as  a 
general  application.  We  shall  best  bring  out  their  rich 
contents  by  simply  taking  them  as  they  stand,  and  con- 
sidering what  is  promised  by  the  two  eloquent  metaphors, 
which  liken  salvation  to  the  walls  and  praise  to  the 
gates  of  the  City  of  God. 

I.  Salvation  is  to  be  the  city's  wall. 

Another  prophet  foretold  that  the  returning  exiles 
would  dwell  in  a  Jerusalem  that  had  no  walls,  '  for  I, 
saith  the  Lord,  will  be  unto  her  a  wall  of  fire  round 
about ' ;  and  Isaiah  sang,  '  We  have  a  strong  city ;  sal- 
vation will  God  appoint  for  walls  and  bulwarks. '  There 
is  no  need  for  material  defences  for  the  community  or 
the  individual  whom  God  defends.  Would  that  the 
Church  had  lived  up  to  the  height  of  that  great  thought! 
Would  that  we  each  believed  it  true  in  regard  to  our  own 
lives!  There  are  three  ways  in  which  this  promise  may 
be  viewed.  We  may  think  of  '  salvation  '  as  meaning 
God's  purpose  to  save.  And  then  the  comfort  and  sense 
of  security  will  be  derived  from  the  thought  that  what 
He  intends  He  performs,  and  that  nothing  can  traverse 


190  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lx. 

that  purpose  except  our  own  rebellious  self- will.  They 
whom  God  designs  to  keep  are  kept ;  they  whom  God 
wills  to  save  are  saved,  unless  they  oppose  His  will, 
which  opposition  is  in  itself  to  be  lost,  and  leads  to  ulti- 
mate and  irreparable  loss. 

We  may  think  of  salvation  as  an  actually  begun  work. 
Then  the  comfort  and  sense  of  security  will  be  derived 
from  that  great  work  by  which  salvation  has  begun  to 
be  ours.  The  work  of  Christ  keeps  us  from  all  danger, 
and  no  foes  can  make  a  breach  in  that  wall,  nor  reach 
those  who  stand  safe  behind  its  strong  towers. 

We  may  think  of  salvation  as  a  personal  experience, 
and  then  the  comfort  and  sense  of  security  will  be  de- 
rived from  that  blessed  consciousness  of  possessing  in 
some  measure  at  least  the  spirit,  not  of  bondage,  but  of 
a  son.  The  consciousness  of  having  '  salvation  '  is  our 
best  defence  against  spiritual  foes  and  our  best  shield 
against  temporal  calamities. 

It  is  good  for  us  to  live  by  faith,  to  be  thrown  back  on 
our  unseen  protector,  to  feel  with  the  psalmist,  '  Thou, 
Lord,  makest  me  to  dwell  in  safety,  though  alone, '  and 
to  see  the  wall  great  and  high  that  is  drawn  round  our 
defenceless  tent  pitched  on  the  sands  of  the  flat  desert. 

II.  Praise  is  to  be  the  city's  gate. 

As  to  the  Church,  this  prophecy  anticipates  the  Apos- 
tle's teaching  that  the  whole  divine  work  of  Eedemp- 
tion,  from  its  fore-ordination  before  the  foundation  of  the 
world,  to  its  application  to  each  sinful  soul,  is  '  to  the 
end  that  we  should  be  unto  the  praise  of  His  glory  '  or, 
as  he  elsewhere  expands  and  enriches  the  expression,  '  to 
the  praise  of  the  glory  of  His  grace.' 

We  are  '  secretaries  of  His  praise. '  A  gate  is  that  by 
which  the  safe  inhabitants  go  out  into  the  region  beyond, 


V.  18]  THE  JOY-BRINGER  191 

and  the  outgoings  of  the  active  life  of  every  Christian 
should  be  such  as  to  make  manifest  the  blessings  that  he 
enjoys  within  the  shelter  of  the  city's  walls.  Only  if 
our  hidden  life  is  blessed  with  a  begun  salvation  will  our 
outward  life  be  vocal  with  the  music  of  praise.  The 
gate  will  be  praise  if,  and  only  if,  the  wall  is  salvation. 

And  praise  is  the  gate  by  which  we  should  go  out  into 
the  world,  even  when  the  world  into  which  we  go  is  dark 
and  the  ways  rough  and  hard.  If  we  have  the  warm 
glow  of  a  realised  salvation  in  our  hearts,  sorrows  that 
are  but  for  a  moment  will  not  silence  the  voice  of  praise, 
though  they  may  cast  it  into  a  minor  key.  The  praise 
that  rises  from  a  sad  heart  is  yet  more  melodious  in 
God's  ear  than  that  which  carols  when  all  things  go 
well.  The  bird  that  sings  in  a  darkened  cage  makes 
music  to  its  owner.  '  Songs  in  the  night '  have  a  singu- 
lar pathos  and  thrill  the  listeners.  When  we  'take  the 
cup  of  salvation  '  and  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord,  we 
shall  offer  to  Him  the  sacrifices  of  thanksgiving,  though 
He  may  recall  some  of  the  precious  gifts  that  He  gave. 
For  He  never  takes  away  the  wall  of  salvation  which  He 
has  built  around  us,  and  as  long  as  that  wall  stands,  its 
gates  will  be  praise.  Submission,  recognition  of  His  will, 
and  even  '  silence  because  Thou  didst  it, '  are  praise  to 
His  ear. 

THE  JOY-BRINGER 

'To  appoint  unto  them  that  mourn  in  Zion,  to  give  unto  them  beauty 
for  ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  the  garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit 
of  heaviness.' — Isaiah  Ixi.  3. 

In  the  little  synagogue  of  Nazareth  Jesus  began  His 
ministry  by  laying  His  hand  upon  this  great  prophecy 
and  saying,  '  It  is  Mine!  I  have  fulfilled  it. '  The  prophet 
had  been  painting  the  ideal  Messianic  Deliverer,  with 


192  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH     [ch.  lxi. 

special  reference  to  the  return  from  the  Babylonian  cap- 
tivity. That  was  '  the  liberty  to  the  captives,  and  the 
opening  of  the  prison  to  them  that  are  bound,'  and  about 
which  he  was  thinking.  But  no  external  deliverance  of 
that  sort  could  meet  the  needs,  nor  satisfy  the  aspira- 
tions, of  a  soul  that  knows  itself  and  its  circumstances. 
Isaiah,  or  the  man  who  goes  by  his  name,  spoke  greater 
things  than  he  knew.  I  am  not  going  to  enter  upon 
questions  of  interpretation ;  but  I  may  say,  that  no  con- 
ception of  Jewish  prophecy  can  hold  its  ground  which  is 
not  framed  in  the  light  of  that  great  saying  in  the  syn- 
agogue of  Nazareth.  So,  then,  we  have  here  the  '  Man 
of  Sorrows, '  as  this  very  prophet  calls  Him  in  another 
place,  presenting  Himself  as  the  Transformer  of  sorrow 
and  the  Bringer  of  joy,  in  regard  to  infinitely  deeper 
griefs  than  those  which  sprang  in  the  heart  of  the  nation 
because  of  the  historical  captivity. 

There  is  another  beautiful  thing  in  our  text,  which 
comes  out  more  distinctly  if  we  follow  the  Kevised  Ver- 
sion, and  read  '  to  give  unto  them  a  garland  for  ashes, 
the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  the  garment  of  praise  for 
the  spirit  of  heaviness. '  There  we  have  two  contrasted 
pictures  suggested :  one  of  a  mourner  with  grey  ashes 
strewed  upon  his  dishevelled  locks,  and  his  spirit  clothed 
in  gloom  like  a  black  robe ;  and  to  him  there  comes  One 
who,  with  gentle  hand,  smoothes  the  ashes  out  of  his 
hair,  trains  a  garland  round  his  brow,  anoints  his  head 
with  oil,  and,  stripping  off  the  trappings  of  woe,  casts 
about  him  a  bright  robe  fit  for  a  guest  at  a  festival. 
That  is  the  miracle  that  Jesus  Christ  can  do  for  every 
one,  and  is  ready  to  do  for  us,  if  we  will  let  Him.  Let 
us  look  at  this  wonderful  transformation,  and  at  the 
way  by  which  it  is  effected. 


V.  3]  THE  JOY-BRINGER  193 

The  first  point  I  would  make  is  that — 

I.  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Joy-bringer  to  men  because  He 
is  the  Eedeemer  of  men. 

Remember  that  in  the  original  application  of  my  text 
to  the  deliverance  from  captivity,  this  gift  of  joy  and 
change  of  sorrow  into  gladness  was  no  independent  and 
second  bestowment,  but  was  simply  the  issue  of  the  one 
that  preceded  it,  viz.,  the  gift  of  liberty  to  the  captives, 
and  the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them  that  were  bound. 
The  gladness  was  a  gladness  that  welled  up  in  the  heart 
of  the  captives  set  free,  and  coming  out  from  the  gloom 
of  the  Babylonian  dungeon  into  the  sunshine  of  God's 
favour,  with  their  faces  set  towards  Zion  '  with  songs 
and  everlasting  joy  upon  their  heads. ' 

Now  you  have  only  to  keep  firm  hold  of  this  connec- 
tion between  these  two  thougts  to  come  to  the  crown 
and  centre-point  of  this  great  prohecy,  as  far  as  it  applies 
to  us,  and  that  is  that  it  is  Christ  as  the  Emancipator, 
Christ  as  the  Deliverer,  Christ  as  He  who  brings  us  out 
of  the  prison  of  bondage  of  the  tyranny  of  sin,  who  is 
the  great  Joy-Giver.  For  there  is  no  real,  deep,  funda- 
mental and  impregnable  gladness  possible  to  a  man  until 
his  relations  to  God  have  been  rectified,  and  until,  with 
these  rectified  relations,  with  the  consciousness  of  for- 
giveness and  the  divine  love  nestling  warm  at  his  heart, 
he  has  turned  himself  away  from  his  dread  and  his  sin, 
and  has  recognised  in  his  Father  God  '  the  gladness  of 
his  joy. ' 

Of  course,  there  are  many  of  us  who  feel  that  life  is  suf- 
ficiently comfortable  and  moderately  happy,  or  at  least 
quite  tolerable,  without  any  kind  of  reference  to  God  at 
all.  And  in  this  day  of  growing  materialism,  and  grow- 
ing consequent  indifference  to  the  deepest  needs  of  the 

VOL.    II.  ,  N. 


194  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  lxi. 

spirit  and  the  claims  of  religion,  more  and  more  men  are 
finding,  or  fancying  that  they  find,  that  they  can  rub 
along  somehow,  and  have  a  fair  share  of  gladness  and 
satisfaction,  without  any  need  for  a  redeeming  gospel 
and  a  forgiving  Christ.  But  about  all  that  kind  of  sur- 
face-joy the  old  words  are  true,  '  even  in  laughter  the 
heart  is  sorrowful,'  and  hosts  of  us  are  satisfied  with 
joys  which  Jesus  has  no  part  in  bringing,  simply  be- 
cause our  truest  self  has  never  once  awakened.  When 
it  does — and  perhaps  it  will  do  so  with  some  of  you,  like 
the  sleeping  giant  that  is  fabled  to  lie  beneath  the  vol- 
cano whose  sunny  slopes  are  smiling  with  flowers — then 
you  will  find  out  that  no  one  can  bring  real  joy  who 
does  not  take  away  guilt  and  sin. 

Jesus  Christ  is  the  Joy-bringer,  because  Jesus  Christ 
is  the  Emancipator.  And  true  gladness  is  the  gladness 
that  springs  from  the  conscious  possession  of  liberty 
from  the  captivity  which  holds  men  slaves  to  evil  and 
to  their  worst  selves.  Brethren,  let  us  not  fancy  that 
these  surface-joys  are  the  joys  adequate  to  a  human 
spirit.  They  are  ignoble,  and  they  are  infinitely  foolish, 
because  a  touch  of  an  awakened  conscience,  a  stirring  of 
one's  deeper  self,  can  scatter  them  all  to  pieces.  So 
then,  that  is  my  first  thought. 

Let  us  suggest  a  second,  that — 

II.  Jesus  Christ  transforms  sorrow  because  He  trans- 
forms the  mourner. 

In  my  text,  all  that  this  Joy-bringer  and  Transmuter 
of  grief  into  its  opposite  is  represented  as  doing  is  on 
the  man  who  feels  the  sorrow.  And  although,  as  I 
have  said,  the  text,  in  its  original  position,  is  simply  a 
deduction  from  the  previous  great  prophecy  which  did 
point  to  a  change  of  circumstances,  and  although  Jesus 


V.3]  THE  JOY-BRINGER  195 

does  bring  the  '  joy  of  salvation  '  by  a  great  change  in  a 
man's  relations,  yet  in  regard  to  the  ordinary  sorrows  of 
life,  He  affects  these  not  so  much  by  an  operation  upon 
our  circumstances  as  by  an  operation  upon  ourselves, 
and  transforms  sorrow  and  brings  gladness,  because  He 
transforms  the  man  who  endures  it.  The  landscape 
remains  the  same,  the  difference  is  in  the  colour  of  the 
glass  through  which  we  look  at  it.  Instead  of  having 
it  presented  through  some  black  and  smoked  medium, 
we  see  it  through  what  the  painter  calls  a  '  Claude  Lor- 
raine '  glass,  tinged  golden,  and  which  throws  its  own 
lovely  light  upon  all  that  it  shows  us.  It  is  possible — 
the  eye  that  looks  being  purged  and  cleansed,  so  as  to 
see  more  clearly — that  the  facts  remaining  identical, 
their  whole  aspect  and  bearing  may  be  altered,  and  that 
which  was  felt,  and  rightly  felt,  to  be  painful  and  pro- 
vocative of  sadness  and  gloom,  may  change  its  charac- 
ter and  beget  a  solemn  joy.  It  would  be  but  a  small 
thing  to  transform  the  conditions ;  it  is  far  better  and 
higher  to  transform  us.  We  all  need,  and  some  of  us, 
I  have  no  doubt,  do  especially  need,  to  remember  that 
the  Lord  who  brings  this  sudden  transformation  for  us, 
does  so  by  His  operation  within  us,  and,  therefore,  to 
that  operation  we  should  wilLngly  yield  ourselves. 

How  does  He  do  this?  One  answer  to  that  question 
is — by  giving  to  the  man  with  ashes  on  his  head  and 
gloom  wrapped  about  his  spirit,  sources  of  joy,  if  he  will 
use  them,  altogether  independent  of  external  circum- 
stances. '  Though  the  fig-tree  shall  not  blossom,  and 
there  be  no  fruit  in  the  vine  .  .  .  yet  will  I  rejoice  in 
the  Lord.'  And  every  Christian  man,  especially  when 
days  are  dark  and  clouds  are  gathering,  has  it  open  to 
him,  and  is  bound  to  use  the  possibility,  to  turn  away  his 


196  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  lxi. 

mind  from  the  external  occasions  of  sadness,  and  fix  it 
on  the  changeless  reason  for  deep  and  unchanging  joy 
— the  sweet  presence,  the  strong  love,  the  sustaining 
hand,  the  infinite  wisdom,  of  his  Father  God. 

Brethren,  "the  paradox  of  the  Christian  life  is,  'as 
sorrowful,  yet  always  rejoicing. '  Christ  calls  for  no  hy- 
pocritical insensibility  to  '  the  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to. ' 
He  has  sanctioned  by  His  example  the  tears  that  flow 
when  death  hurts  loving  hearts.  He  commanded  the 
women  of  Jerusalem  to  '  weep  for  themselves  and  for 
their  children. '  He  means  that  we  should  feel  the  full 
bitterness  and  pain  of  sorrows  which  will  not  be  medici- 
nal unless  they  are  bitter,  and  will  not  be  curative  un- 
less they  cut  deep.  But  He  also  means  that  whilst  thus 
we  suffer  as  men,  in  the  depths  of  our  own  hearts  we 
should,  at  the  same  time,  be  turning  away  from  the  suffer- 
ings and  their  cause,  and  fixing  our  hearts,  quiet  even 
then  amidst  the  distractions,  upon  God  Himself.  Ah!  it 
is  hard  to  do,  and  because  we  do  not  do  it,  the  promise 
that  He  will  turn  the  sorrow  into  joy  often  seems  to  be 
a  vain  word  for  us. 

It  is  not  ours  to  rejoice  as  the  world  does,  nor  is  it 
ours  to  sorrow  as  those  who  have  no  hope,  or  as  those 
who  have  no  God  with  them.  But  the  two  opposite 
emotions  may,  to  a  large  extent,  be  harmonised  and 
co-existent  in  a  Christian  heart,  and,  since  they  can  be, 
they  should  be.  The  Christian  in  sorrow  should  be  as 
an  island  set  in  some  stormy  sea,  with  wild  waves  break- 
ing against  its  black,  rocky  coast,  and  the  wind  howling 
around  it,  but  in  the  centre  of  it  there  is  a  deep  and 
shady  dell  '  that  heareth  not  the  loud  winds  when  they 
call, '  and  where  not  a  leaf  is  moved  by  the  tempest.  In 
a  like  depth  of  calm  and  central  tranquillity  it  is  possi- 


V.  3]  THE  JOY-BRINGER  197 

ble  for  us  to  live,  even  while  the  storm  hurtles  its  loud- 
est on  the  outermost  coasts  of  our  being ;  '  as  sorrowful, 
yet"  always  rejoicing,'  because  the  Joy-bringer  has 
opened  for  us  sources  of  gladness  independent  of  exter- 
nals. 

And  then  there  is  another  way  by  which,  for  us,  if  we 
will  use  our  privileges,  the  sorrows  of  life  may  be  trans- 
muted, because  we,  contemplating  them,  have  come  to  a 
changed  understanding  of  their  meaning.  That  is,  after 
all,  the  secret  charm  to  be  commended  to  us  at  all  times, 
but  to  be  commended  to  us  most  when  our  hearts  are 
heavy  and  the  days  are  dark  around  us.  We  shall  never 
understand  life  if  we  class  its  diverse  events  simply  under 
the  two  opposite  categories  of  good — evil ;  prosperity — 
adversity;  gains — losses;  fulfilled  expectations — disap- 
pointed hopes.  Put  them  all  together  under  one  class 
— discipline  and  education ;  means  for  growth ;  means 
for  Christlikeness.  When  we  have  found  out,  what  it 
takes  a  long  while  for  us  to  learn,  that  the  lancet  and 
the  bandage  are  for  the  same  purpose,  and  that  opposite 
weathers  conspire  to  the  same  end,  that  of  the  harvest, 
the  sting  is  out  of  the  sorrow,  the  poison  is  wiped  off  the 
arrow.  We  can  have,  if  not  a  solemn  joy,  at  least  a 
patient  acquiescence,  in  the  diversities  of  operation,  when 
we  learn  that  the  same  hand  is  working  in  all  for  the 
same  end,  and  that  all  that  contributes  to  that  end  is  good. 

Here  we  may  suggest  a  third  way  by  which  a  trans- 
formation wrought  upon  ourselves  transforms  the  aspect 
of  our  sorrows,  and  that  is,  that  possessing  independent 
sources  of  joy,  and  having  come  to  learn  the  educational 
aspect  of  all  adversity,  we  hereby  are  brought  by  Jesus 
Christ  Himself  to  the  position  of  submission.  And  that 
is  the  most  potent  talisman  to  transform  mourning  into 


198  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH     [ch.  lxi. 

praise.  An  accepted  grief  is  a  conquered  grief;  a  con- 
quered grief  will  very  soon  be  a  comforted  grief;  and  a 
comforted  grief  is  a  joy.  By  all  these  means  Jesus 
Christ,  here  and  now,  is  transmuting  the  lead  and  iron 
of  our  griefs  into  the  gold  of  a  not  ignoble  nor  transient 
gladness. 

And  may  I  say  one  last  word?  My  text  suggests  not 
only  these  two  points  to  which  I  have  already  referred — 
viz.  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Joy-bringer  because  He  is 
the  Emancipator,  and  that  He  transforms  sorrow  by 
transforming  the  mourner — but,  lastly,  that 

HI.  Jesus  gives  joy  after  sorrow. 

'  Nevertheless,  afterward '  is  a  great  word  of  glowing 
encouragement  for  all  sad  hearts.  '  Fools  and  children, ' 
says  the  old  proverb,  '  should  not  see  half-done  work  ' ;  at 
least,  they  should  not  judge  it.  When  the  ploughshare 
goes  deep  into  the  brown,  frosty  ground,  the  work  is 
only  begun.  The  earth  may  seem  to  be  scarped  and 
hurt,  and,  if  one  might  say,  to  bleed,  but  in  six  months' 
time  '  you  scarce  can  see '  the  soil  for  waving  corn. 
Yes;  and  sorrow,  as  some  of  us  could  witness,  is  the 
forecast  of  purest  joy.  I  have  no  doubt  that  there  are 
men  and  women  here  who  could  say,  '  I  never  knew  the 
power  of  God,  and  the  blessedness  of  Christ  as  a  Saviour, 
until  I  was  in  deep  affliction,  and  when  everything  else 
went  dark,  then  in  His  light  I  saw  light. '  Do  not  some 
of  you  know  the  experience?  and  might  we  not  all  know 
it?  and  why  do  we  not  know  it? 

Jesus  Christ,  even  here  and  now,  gives  these  blessed 
results  of  our  sorrows,  if  they  are  taken  to  the  right 
place,  and  borne  in  right  fashion.  For  it  is  they  '  that 
mourn  in  Zion '  that  He  thus  blesses.  There  are  some 
of  us,  I  fear,  whose  only  resource  in  trouble  is  to  fling 


V.  3]  THE  JOY-BRINGER  199 

ourselves  into  some  work,  or  some  dissipation.  There 
are  people  who  try  to  work  away  their  griefs,  as  well  as 
people  who  try  feverishly  to  drink  them  away.  And 
there  are  some  of  us  whose  only  resource  for  deliverance 
from  our  sorrows  is  that,  after  the  wound  has  bled  all  it 
can,  it  stops  bleeding,  and  the  grief  simply  dies  by  lapse 
of  time  and  for  want  of  fuel.  An  affliction  wasted  is 
the  worst  of  all  waste.  But  if  we  carry  our  grief  into 
the  sanctuary,  then,  here  and  now,  it  will  change  its 
aspect  and  become  a  solemn  joy. 

I  say  nothing  about  the  ultimate  result  where  every 
sorrow  rightly  borne  shall  be  represented  in  the  future 
life  by  some  stage  in  grace  or  glory,  where  every  tear 
shall  be  crystallised,  if  I  might  say  so,  into  a  flashing 
diamond,  which  flings  off  the  reflection  of  the  divine 
light,  where  '  there  shall  be  no  sorrow  nor  sighing,  nor 
any  more  pain,  for  the  former  things  are  passed  away.' 
When  the  lesson  has  been  learned,  God  burns  the  rod. 

But,  brethren,  there  is  another  sadder  transformation. 
I  have  been  speaking  about  the  transformation  of  sor- 
row into  joy.  There  is  also  the  transformation  of  joy 
into  sorrow.  I  spoke  a  little  while  ago  about  the  '  laugh- 
ter '  in  which  the  heart  is  '  sorrowful, '  and  the  writer 
from  whom  I  quoted  the  words  goes  on  to  say,  '  The  end 
of  that  mirth  is  heaviness. '  '  Thereof  cometh  in  the 
end  despondency  and  madness. '  I  saw,  on  a  hilltoj^,  a 
black  circle  among  the  grass  and  heather.  There  had 
been  a  bonfire  there  on  Coronation  Night,  and  it  had  all 
died  down,  and  that  was  the  end — a  hideous  ring  of 
scorched  barrenness  amidst  the  verdure.  Take  care 
that  your  gladnesses  do  not  die  down  like  that,  but  that 
they  are  pure,  and  being  pure  are  undying.  Union 
with  Jesus  Christ  makes  sorrow  lisrht,  and  secures  that 


200  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  lxii. 

it  shall  merge  at  last  into  '  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of 
joy. '  I  believe  that  separation  from  Christ  makes  joy 
shallow,  and  makes  it  certain  that  at  last,  instead  of  a 
garland,  shall  be  ashes  on  the  head,  and  that,  instead  of 
a  festal  robe,  the  spirit  shall  be  wrapped  in  a  garment  of 
heaviness. 


THE  HEAVENLY  WORKERS  AND  THE 
EARTHLY  WATCHERS 

'For  Zion's  sake  will  I  not  hold  my  peace,  and  for  Jerusalem's  sake  I 
will  not  rest.  ...  I  have  set  watchmen  upon  thy  walls,  O  Jerusalem,  which 
shall  never  hold  their  peace  day  nor  night:  ye  that  make  mention  of  the 
Lord,  keep  not  silence,  and  give  Him  no  rest.' — Isaiah  lxii.  1,  6,  7. 

Two  remarks  of  an  expository  nature  will  prepare  the 
way  for  the  consideration  of  these  words.  The  first  is 
that  the  "speaker  is  the  personal  Messiah.  The  second 
half  of  Isaiah's  prophecies  forms  one  great  whole,  which 
might  be  called  The  Book  of  the  Servant  of  the  Lord. 
One  majestic  figure  stands  forth  on  its  pages  with  ever- 
growing clearness  of  outline  and  form.  The  language 
in  which  He  is  described  fluctuates  at  first  between  the 
collective  Israel  and  the  one  Person  who  is  to  be  all  that 
the  nation  had  failed  to  attain.  But  even  near  the  be- 
ginning of  the  prophecy  we  read  of  '  My  servant  whom 
I  uphold, '  whose  voice  is  to  be  low  and  soft,  and  whose 
meek  persistence  is  not  to  fail  till  He  have  '  set  judg- 
ment in  the  earth. '  And  as  we  advance  the  reference 
to  the  nation  becomes  less  and  less  possible,  and  the  rec- 
ognition of  the  person  more  and  more  imperative.  At 
first  the  music  of  the  prophetic  song  seems  to  move  un- 
certainly amid  sweet  sounds,  from  which  the  true  theme 
by  degrees  emerges,  and  thenceforward  recurs  over  and 
over  again  with    deeper,  louder  harmonies  clustering 


vs.  1,  6,  7]   THE  HEAVENLY  WORKERS       201 

about  it,  till  it  swells  into  the  grandeur  of  the  choral 
close. 

In  the  chapter  before  our  text  we  read,  '  The  Spirit  of 
the  Lord  God  is  upon  me,  because  the  Lord  hath  anointed 
me  to  preach  good  tidings  unto  the  meek. '  Throughout 
the  remainder  of  the  prophecy,  with  the  exception  of 
one  section  which  contains  the  prayer  of  the  desolate 
Israel,  this  same  person  continues  to  speak ;  and  who  he 
is  was  taught  in  the  synagogue  of  Nazareth.  Whilst 
the  preceding  chapter,  then,  brings  in  Christ  as  proclaim- 
ing the  great  work  of  deliverance  for  which  He  is  anointed 
of  God,  the  following  chapter  presents  Him  as  '  treading 
the  wine-press  alone, '  which  is  a  symbol  of  the  future 
judgment  by  the  glorified  Saviour.  Between  these  two 
prophecies  of  the  earthly  life  and  of  the  still  future  judi- 
cial energy,  this  chapter  of  our  text  lies,  referring,  as  I 
take  it,  to  the  period  between  these  two — that  is,  to  all 
the  ages  of  the  Church's  development  on  earth.  For 
these  Christ  here  promises  His  continual  activity,  and 
His  continual  bestowment  of  grace  to  His  servants  who 
watch  the  walls  of  His  Jerusalem. 

The  second  point  to  be  noticed  is  the  remarkable  par- 
allelism in  the  expressions  selected  as  the  text :  '  I  will 
not  hold  My  peace ' ;  the  watchmen  '  shall  never  hold 
their  peace.'  And  His  command  to  them  is  literally, 
'  Ye  that  remind  Jehovah — no  rest  (or  silence)  to  you, 
and  give  not  rest  to  Him. ' 

So  we  have  here  Christ,  the  Church,  and  God  all  rep- 
resented as  unceasingly  occupied  in  the  one  great  work 
of  establishing  '  Zion '  as  the  centre  of  light,  salvation, 
and  righteousness  for  the  whole  world.  The  considera- 
tion of  these  three  perpetual  activities  may  open  for  us 
some  great  truths  and  stimulating  lessons. 


202  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lxii. 

I.  First,  then,  The  glorified  Christ  is  constantly  work- 
ing for  His  Church. 

We  are  too  apt  to  regard  our  Lord's  real  work  as  all 
lying  in  the  past,  and,  from  the  very  greatness  of  our 
estimate  of  what  He  has  done,  to  forget  the  true  impor- 
tance of  what  He  evermore  does.  '  Christ  that  died  '  is 
the  central  object  of  trust  and  contemplation  for  devout 
souls — and  that  often  to  the  partial  hiding  of  Christ  that 
is  '  risen  again,  who  is  even  at  the  right  hand  of  God, 
who  also  maketh  intercession  for  us.'  But  Scripture 
sets  forth  the  present  glorious  life  of  our  ascended  Lord 
under  two  contrasted  and  harmonious  aspects — as  being 
rest,  and  as  being  continuous  activity  in  the  midst  of 
rest.  He  was  '  received  up  into  heaven,  and  sat  on  the 
right  hand  of  God.'  In  that  session  on  the  throne  mani- 
fold and  mighty  truths  are  expressed.  It  proclaims  the 
full  accomplishment  of  all  the  purposes  of  His  earthly 
ministry;  it  emphasises  the  triumphant  completion  of 
His  redeeming  work  by  His  death ;  it  proclaims  the  maj- 
esty of  His  nature,  which  returns  to  the  '  glory  which 
He  had  with  the  Father  before  the  world  was  ' ;  it  shows 
to  the  world,  as  on  some  coronation  day,  its  King  on  His 
throne,  girded  with  power  and  holding  the  far-reaching 
sceptre  of  the  universe ;  it  prophesies  for  men,  in  spite 
of  all  present  sin  and  degradation,  a  share  in  the  domin- 
ion which  manhood  has  in  Christ  attained,  for  though 
we  see  not  yet  all  things  put  under  Him,  we  see  Jesus 
crowned  with  glory  and  honour.  It  prophesies,  too, 
His  final  victory  over  all  that  sets  itself  in  unavailing 
antagonism  to  His  love.  It  points  us  backward  to  an 
historical  fact  as  the  basis  of  all  our  hopes  for  ourselves 
and  for  our  fellows,  giving  us  the  assurance  that  the 
world's  deliverance  will  come  from  the  slow  operation  of 


vs.  1,6,7]   THE  HEAVENLY  WORKERS         203 

the  forces  already  lodged  in  its  history  by  Christ's  fin- 
ished work.  It  points  us  forwards  to  a  future  as  the 
goal  of  all  these  hopes,  giving  us  that  confidence  of  vic- 
tory which  He  has  who,  having  kindled  the  fire  on  earth, 
henceforward  sits  at  God's  right  hand,  waiting  in  the 
calm  and  sublime  patience  of  conscious  omnipotence  and 
clear  foreknowledge  '  until  His  enemies  become  His  foot- 
stool. ' 

But  whilst  on  the  one  side  Christ  rests  as  from  a  per- 
fected work  which  needs  no  addition  nor  repetition,  on 
the  other  He  '  rests  not  day  nor  night. '  And  this  aspect 
of  His  present  state  is  as  distinctly  set  forth  in  Scripture 
as  that  is.  Indeed  the  words  already  quoted  as  embody- 
ing the  former  phase  contain  the  latter  also.  For  is  not 
'  the  right  hand  of  God  '  the  operative  energy  of  the  di- 
vine nature?  And  is  not  '  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of 
God '  equivalent  to  possessing  and  wielding  that  un- 
wearied, measureless  power?  Are  there  not  blended  to- 
gether in  this  pregnant  phrase  the  ideas  of  profoundest 
calm  and  of  intensest  action,  that  being  expressed  by 
the  attitude,  and  this  by  the  locality?  Therefore  does 
the  evangelist  who  uses  the  expression  expand  it  into 
words  which  wonderfully  close  his  gospel,  with  the  same 
representation  of  Christ's  swift  and  constant  activity 
as  he  had  been  all  along  pointing  out  as  characterising 
His  life  on  earth.  'They  went  forth,'  says  he,  'and 
preached  everywhere  ' — ^so  far  the  contrast  between  the 
Lord  seated  in  the  heavens  and  His  wandering  servants 
fighting  on  earth  is  sharp  and  almost  harsh.  But  the 
next  words  tone  it  down,  and  weave  the  two  apparently 
discordant  halves  of  the  picture  into  a  whole:  '  the  Lord 
working  with  them.'  Yes!  in  all  His  rest  He  is  full  of 
work,  in  all  their  toils  He  shares,  in  all  their  journeys 


204  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lxii. 

His  presence  goes  beside  them.  Whatever  they  do  is 
His  deed,  and  the  help  that  is  done  upon  the  earth  He 
doeth  it  all  Himself. 

Is  not  this  blessed  conviction  of  Christ's  continuous 
operation  in  and  for  His  Church  that  which  underlies, 
as  has  often  been  pointed  out,  the  language  of  the  intro- 
duction to  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  where  mention  is 
made  of  the  former  treatise  that  told  '  all  which  Jesus 
began  both  to  do  and  teach '  ?  The  gospel  records  the 
beginning,  the  Book  of  the  Acts  the  continuance ;  it  is 
one  biography  in  two  volumes.  Being  yet  present  with 
them  He  spoke  and  acted.  Being  exalted  He  '  speaketh 
from  heaven, '  and  from  the  throne  carries  on  the  end- 
less series  of  His  works  of  power  and  healing.  The 
whole  history  is  shaped  by  the  same  conviction.  Every- 
where '  the  Lord  '  is  the  true  actor,  the  source  of  all  the 
life  which  is  in  the  Church,  the  arranger  of  all  the  prov- 
idences which  affect  its  progress.  The  Lord  adds  to  the 
Church  daily.  His  name  works  miracles.  To  the  Lord 
believers  are  added.  His  angel.  His  Spirit,  bring  mes- 
sages to  His  servants.  He  appears  to  Paul,  and  speaks 
to  Ananias.  The  Gentiles  turn  to  the  Lord  because  the 
hand  of  the  Lord  is  with  the  preachers.  The  Lord  calls 
Paul  to  carry  the  gospel  to  Macedonia.  The  Lord  opens 
the  heart  of  Lydia,  and  so  throughout.  Not  '  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles,'  but  '  the  Acts  of  the  Lord  in  and  by 
His  servants,'  is  the  accurate  title  of  this  book.  The 
vision  which  flashed  angel  radiance  on  the  face,  and 
beamed  with  divine  comfort  into  the  heart,  of  Stephen, 
was  a  momentary  revelation  of  an  abiding  reality,  and 
completes  the  representation  of  the  Saviour  throned 
beside  Almighty  power.  He  beheld  his  Lord,  not  seated, 
as  if  careless  or  resting,  while  His  servant's  need  was 


vs.  1,6, 7]  THE  HEAVENLY  WORKERS         205 

so  sore,  but  as  if  risen  with  intent  to  help,  and  ready  to 
defend — *  standing  on  the  right  hand  of  God. ' 

And  when  once  again  the  heavens  opened  to  the  rapt 
eyes  of  John  in  Patmos,  the  Lord  whom  he  beheld  was 
not  only  revealed  as  glorified  in  the  lustre  of  the  inac- 
cessible light,  but  as  actively  sustaining  and  guiding  the 
human  reflectors  of  it.  He  '  holdeth  the  seven  stars  in 
His  right  hand, '  and  '  walketh  in  the  midst  of  the  seven 
golden  candlesticks. ' 

Not  otherwise  does  my  text  represent  the  present  rela- 
tion of  Christ  to  His  Church.  It  speaks  of  a  continuous 
forth-putting  of  power,  which  it  is,  perhaps,  not  over- 
fanciful  to  regard  as  dimly  set  forth  here  in  a  twofold 
form — namely,  work  and  word.  At  all  events,  that  di- 
vision stands  out  clearly  on  the  pages  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, which  ever  holds  forth  the  double  truth  of  our 
Lord's  constant  action  on,  in,  through,  and  for  His  Zion, 
and  of  our  High  Priest's  constant  intercession. 

*  I  will  not  rest. '  Through  all  the  ages  His  power  is 
in  exercise.  He  inspires  in  good  men  all  their  wisdom, 
and  every  grace  of  life  and  character.  He  uses  them  as 
His  weapons  in  the  contest  of  His  love  with  the  world's 
hatred;  but  the  hand  that  forged,  and  tempered,  and 
sharpened  the  blade  is  that  which  smites  with  it ;  and 
the  axe  must  not  boast  itself  against  him  that  heweth. 
He,  the  Lord  of  lords,  orders  providences,  and  shapes  the 
course  of  the  world  for  that  Church  which  is  His  wit- 
ness: 'Yea,  He  reproved  kings  for  their  sake,  saying, 
Touch  not  Mine  anointed,  and  do  My  prophets  no  harm. ' 
The  ancient  legend  which  told  how,  on  many  a  well- 
fought  field,  the  ranks  of  Rome  discerned  through  the 
battle-dust  the  gleaming  weapons  and  white  steeds  of 
the  Great  Twin  Brethren  far  in  front  of  the  solid  legions. 


206  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lxii. 

is  true  in  loftier  sense  in  our  Holy  War.  We  may  still 
see  the  vision  which  the  leader  of  Israel  saw  of  old,  the 
man  with  the  drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  and  hear  the 
majestic  word,  '  As  Captain  of  the  Lord's  host  am  I  now 
come. '  The  Word  of  God,  with  vesture  dipped  in  blood, 
with  eyes  alit  with  His  flaming  love,  with  the  many 
crowns  of  unlimited  sovereignty  upon  His  head,  rides  at 
the  head  of  the  armies  of  heaven ;  '  and  in  righteous- 
ness doth  He  judge  and  make  war. '  For  the  single  soul 
struggling  with  daily  tasks  and  petty  cares.  His  help  is  near 
and  real,  as  for  the  widest  work  of  the  collective  whole. 
He  sends  none  of  us  tasks  in  which  He  has  no  share. 
The  word  of  this  Master  is  never  '  Go, '  but  '  Come. '  He 
unites  Himself  with  all  our  sorrows,  with  all  our  efforts. 
'  The  Lord  also  working  with  them'  is  a  description  of 
all  the  labours  of  Christian  men,  be  they  great  or  small. 
Nor  is  this  all.  There  still  remains  the  wonderful 
truth  of  His  continuous  intercession  for  us.  In  its  wid- 
est meaning  that  word  expresses  the  whole  of  the  mani- 
fold ways  by  which  Christ  undertakes  and  maintains  our 
cause.  But  the  narrower  signification  of  prayer  on  our 
behalf  is  applicable,  and  is  in  Scripture  applied,  to  our 
Lord.  As  on  earth,  the  climax  of  all  His  intercourse 
with  His  disciples  was  that  deep  yet  simple  prayer  which 
forms  the  Holy  of  Holies  of  John's  Gospel,  so  in  heaven 
His  loftiest  office  for  us  is  set  forth  under  the  figure  of 
His  intercession.  Before  the  Throne  stands  the  slain 
Lamb,  and  therefore  do  the  elders  in  the  outer  circle 
bring  acceptable  praises.  Within  the  veil  stands  the 
Priest,  with  the  names  of  the  tribes  blazing  on  the 
breastplate  and  on  the  shoulders  of  His  robes,  near  the 
seat  of  love,  near  the  arm  of  power.  And  whatever 
difficulty  may  surround  that  idea  of  Christ's  priestly 


vs.  1,6, 7]  THE  HEAVENLY  WORKERS        207 

intercession,  this  at  all  events  is  implied  in  it,  that  the 
mighty  work  which  He  accomplished  on  earth  is  ever 
present  to  the  divine  mind  as  the  ground  of  our  accept- 
ance and  the  channel  of  our  blessings ;  and  this  further, 
that  the  utterance  of  Christ's  will  is  ever  in  harmony 
with  the  divine  purpose.  Therefore  His  prayer  has  in 
it  a  strange  tone  of  majesty,  and,  if  we  may  so  say,  of 
command,  as  of  one  who  knows  that  He  is  ever  heard : 
'  /  will  that  they  whom  Thou  hast  given  Me,  be  with 
Me  where  I  am. ' 

The  instinct  of  the  Church  has,  from  of  old,  laid  hold 
of  an  event  in  His  earthly  life  to  shadow  forth  this  great 
truth,  and  has  bid  us  see  a  pledge  and  a  symbol  of  it  in 
that  scene  on  the  Lake  of  Galilee :  the  disciples  toiling  in 
the  sudden  storm,  the  poor  little  barque  tossing  on  the 
waters  tinged  by  the  wan  moon,  the  spray  dashing  over 
the  wearied  rowers.  They  seem  alone,  but  up  yonder, 
in  some  hidden  cleft  of  the  hills,  their  Master  looks 
down  on  all  the  weltering  storm,  and  lifts  His  voice  in 
prayer.  Then  when  the  need  is  sorest,  and  the  hope 
least.  He  comes  across  the  waves,  making  their  surges 
His  pavement,  and  using  all  opposition  as  the  means  of 
His  approach,  and  His  presence  brings  calmness,  and  im- 
mediately they  are  at  the  land. 

So  we  have  not  only  to  look  back  to  the  Cross,  but  up 
to  the  Throne.  From  the  Cross  we  hear  a  voice,  '  It  is 
finished.'  From  the  Throne  a  voice,  '  For  Zion's  sake  I 
will  not  hold  My  peace,  and  for  Jerusalem's  sake  I  will 
not  rest. ' 

II.  Secondly,  Christ's  servants  on  earth  derive  from 
Him  a  like  perpetual  activity  for  the  same  object. 

The  Lord,  who  in  the  former  portion  of  these  verses 
declares  His  own  purpose  of  unwearied  action  for  Zion, 


208  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lxii. 

associates  with  Himself  in  the  latter  portion  the  watch- 
men, whom  He  appoints  and  endows  for  functions  in 
some  measure  resembling  His  own,  and  exercised  with 
constancy  derived  from  Him.  '  I  have  set  watchmen 
upon  thy  walls,  O  Jerusalem,  which  shall  never  hold 
their  peace  day  nor  night. '  On  the  promise  follows,  as 
ever,  a  command  (for  all  divine  gifts  involve  the  re- 
sponsibility of  their  use,  and  it  is  not  His  wont  either  to 
bestow  without  requiring,  or  to  require  before  bestow- 
ing), '  Ye  that  remind  Jehovah,  keep  not  silence.' 

There  is  distinctly  traceable  here  a  reference  to  a  two- 
fold form  of  occupation  devolving  on  these  Christ-sent 
servants.  They  are  watchmen,  and  they  are  also  God's 
remembrancers.  In  the  one  capacity  as  in  the  other, 
their  voices  are  to  be  always  heard.  The  former  meta- 
phor is  common  in  the  Old  Testament,  as  a  designation 
of  the  prophetic  office,  but,  in  accordance  with  the  gen- 
ius of  the  New  Testament,  as  expressed  on  Pentecost, 
when  the  Spirit  was  poured  out  on  the  lowly  as  well  as 
on  the  high,  on  the  young  as  on  the  old,  and  all  prophe- 
sied, it  may  be  fairly  extended  to  designate  not  some  se- 
lect few,  but  the  whole  mass  of  Christian  people.  The 
watchman's  office  falls  to  be  done  by  all  who  see  the 
coming  peril,  and  have  a  tongue  to  echo  it  forth.  The 
remembrancer's  priestly  office  belongs  to  every  member 
of  Christ's  priestly  kingdom,  the  lowest  and  least  of 
whom  has  the  privilege  of  unrestrained  entry  into  God's 
presence-chamber,  and  the  power  of  blessing  the  world 
by  faithful  prayer.  What  should  we  think  of  a  citizen 
in  a  beleaguered  city,  who  saw  the  enemy  mounting  the 
very  ramparts,  and  gave  no  alarm  because  that  was  the 
sentry's  business?  In  such  extremity  every  man  is  a 
soldier,  and  women  and  children  can  at  least  keep  watch 


vs.  1,6, 7]  THE  HEAVENLY  WORKERS         209 

and  raise  shrill  cries  of  warning.  The  gifts,  then,  here 
promised,  and  the  duties  that  flow  from  them,  are  not 
the  prerogatives  or  the  tasks  of  any  class  or  order,  but 
the  heritage  and  the  burden  of  the  Lord  to  every  mem- 
ber of  His  Church. 

Our  voices  should  ever  be  heard  on  earth.  A  solemn 
message  is  committed  to  us,  by  the  very  fact  of  our  be- 
lief in  Jesus  Christ  and  His  work.  With  that  faith 
come  responsibilities  of  which  no  Christian  can  denude 
himself.  To  warn  the  wicked  man  to  turn  from  His 
wickedness ;  to  blow  the  trumpet  when  we  see  the  sword 
coming ;  to  catch  ever  gleaming  on  the  horizon,  like  the 
spears  cf  an  army  through  the  dust  of  the  march,  the 
outriders  and  advance-guard  of  the  coming  of  Him 
whose  coming  is  life  or  death  to  all,  and  to  lift  up  our 
voices  with  strength  and  say,  '  Behold  your  God ' ;  to 
peal  into  the  ears  of  men,  sunken  in  earthliness  and 
dreaming  of  safety,  the  cry  which  inav  startle  and  save; 
to  ring  out  in  glad  tones  to  all  who  wearily  ask,  '  Watch- 
man, what  of  the  night?  will  the  night  soon  pass?  '  the 
answer  which  the  slow  dawning  east  has  breathed  into 
our  else  stony  lips,  '  The  morning  cometh  ' ;  to  proclaim 
Christ,  who  came  once  to  put  away  sin  by  the  sacrifice 
of  Himself,  who  comes  ever,  through  the  ages,  to  bless 
and  uphold  the  righteousness  which  He  loves  and  to  de- 
stroy the  iniquity  which  He  hates,  who  will  come  at  the 
last  to  judge  the  world — this  is  the  never-ending  task 
of  the  watchmen  on  the  walls  of  Jerusalem.  The  New 
Testament  calls  it  '  preaching, '  proclaiming  as  a  herald 
does.  And  both  metaphors  carry  one  common  lesson  of 
the  manner  in  which  the  work  should  be  done.  With 
clear  loud  voice,  with  earnestness  and  decision,  with 
faithfulness  and  self-oblivion,  forgetting  himself  in  his 

VOL.  II.  O 


210  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lxii. 

message,  must  the  herald  sound  out  the  will  of  his  King, 
the  largess  of  his  Lord,  And  the  watchman  who  stands 
ou  his  watch-tower  whole  nights,  and  sees  foemen  creep- 
ing through  the  gloom,  or  fire  bursting  out  among  the 
straw-roofed  cottages  within  the  walls,  shouts  with  all 
his  might  the  short,  sharp  alarm,  that  wakes  the  sleep- 
ers to  whom  slumber  were  death.  Let  us  ponder  the 
pattern. 

Our  voices  should  ever  be  heard  in  heaven.  They  Who 
trust  God  remind  Him  of  His  promises  by  their  very 
faith ;  it  is  a  mute  appeal  to  His  faithful  love,  which  He 
cannot  but  answer.  And,  beyond  that,  their  prayers 
come  up  for  a  memorial  before  God,  and  have  as  real  an 
effect  in  furthering  Christ's  kingdom  on  earth  as  is  ex- 
ercised by  their  entreaties  and  proclamations  to  men. 

How  distinctly  these  words  of  our  text  define  the  re- 
gion within  which  our  prayers  should  ever  move,  and  the 
limits  which  bound  their  efficacy!  They  remind  God. 
Then  the  truest  prayer  is  that  which  bases  itself  on 
God's  uttered  will,  and  the  desires  which  are  born  of  our 
own  fancies  or  heated  enthusiasms  have  no  power  with 
Him.  The  prayer  that  prevails  is  a  reflected  promise. 
Our  office  in  prayer  is  but  to  receive  on  our  hearts  the 
bright  rays  of  His  word,  and  to  flash  them  back  from 
the  polished  surface  to  the  heaven  from  whence  they 
came. 

These  two  forms  of  action  ought  to  be  inseparable. 
Each,  if  genuine,  will  drive  us  to  the  other,  for  who 
could  fling  himself  into  the  watchman's  work,  with  all 
its  solemn  consequences,  knowing  how  weak  his  voice 
was,  and  how  deaf  the  ears  that  should  hear,  unless  he 
could  bring  God's  might  to  his  help?  and  who  could 
honestly  remind  God  of  His  promises  and  forget  his  own 


vs.  1,6,7]  THE  HEAVENiIy  WORKERS         211 

responsibilities?  Prayerless  work  will  soon  slacken,  and 
never  bear  fruit ;  idle  prayer  is  worse  than  idle.  You 
cannot  part  them  if  you  would.  How  much  of  the  busy 
occupation  which  is  called  '  Christian  work  '  is  detected 
to  be  spurious  by  this  simple  test!  How  much  so-called 
prayer  is  reduced  by  it  to  mere  noise,  no  better  than  the 
blaring  trumpet  or  the  hollow  drum ! 

The  power  for  both  is  derived  from  Christ.  He  sets 
the  watchmen;  He  commands  the  remembrancers. 
From  Him  flows  the  power,  from  His  good  Spirit  comes 
the  desire,  to  proclaim  the  message.  That  message  is 
the  story  of  His  life  and  death.  But  for  what  He  does 
and  is  we  should  have  nothing  to  say ;  but  for  His  gift 
we  should  have  no  power  to  say  it ;  but  for  His  influence 
we  should  have  no  will  to  say  it.  He  commands  and 
fits  us  to  be  intercessors,  for  His  mighty  work  brings  us 
near  to  God ;  He  opens  for  us  access  with  confidence  to 
God.  He  inspires  our  prayers.  He  '  hath  made  us 
priests  to  God. ' 

And,  as  the  Christian  power  of  discharging  these  two- 
fold duties  is  drawn  from  Christ,  so  our  pattern  is  His 
manner  of  discharging  them,  and  the  condition  of  receiv- 
ing the  power  is  to  abide  in  Him.  He  proposes  Himself 
as  our  Example.  He  calls  us  to  no  labours  which  He 
has  not  Himself  shared,  nor  to  any  earnestness  or  con- 
tinuance in  prayer  which  He  has  not  Himself  shown 
forth.  This  Master  works  in  front  of  His  men.  The 
farmer  that  goes  first  among  all  the  sowers,  and  heads 
the  line  of  reapers  in  the  yellowing  harvest-field,  may 
well  have  diligent  servants.  Our  Master  '  went  forth, 
weeping,  bearing  precious  seed, '  and  has  left  it  in  our 
hands  to  sow  in  all  furrows.  Our  Master  is  the  Lord  of 
the  harvest,  and  has  borne  the  heat  of  the  day  before 


212  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lxii. 

His  servants.  Look  at  the  amount  of  work,  actual 
hard  work,  compressed  into  these  three  short  years  of 
His  ministry.  Take  the  records  of  the  words  He  spake 
on  that  last  day  of  His  public  teaching,  and  see  what 
unwearied  toil  they  represent.  Ponder  upon  that  life 
till  you  catch  the  spirit  which  breathed  through  it  all, 
and,  like  Him,  embrace  gladly  the  welcome  necessity  of 
labour  for  God,  under  the  sense  of  a  vocation  conferred 
upon  you,  and  of  the  short  space  within  which  your  ser- 
vice must  be  condensed.  '  I  must  work  the  work  of  Him 
that  sent  me,  while  it  is  day :  the  night  cometh,  when 
no  man  can  work. ' 

Christ  asks  no  romantic  impossibilities  from  us,  but 
He  does  ask  a  continuous,  systematic  discharge  of  the 
duties  which  depend  on  our  relation  to  the  world,  and  on 
our  relation  to  Him.  Let  it  be  our  life's  work  to  show 
forth  His  praise ;  let  the  very  atmosphere  in  which  we 
move  and  have  our  being  be  prayer.  Let  two  great  cur- 
rents set  ever  through  our  days,  which  two,  like  the 
great  movements  in  the  ocean  of  the  air,  are  but  the  up- 
per and  under  halves  of  the  one  movement — that  beneath 
with  constant  energy  of  desire  rushing  in  from  the  cold 
poles  to  be  warmed  and  expanded  at  the  tropics,  where 
the  all-moving  sun  pours  his  directest  rays;  that  above 
charged  with  rich  gifts  from  the  Lord  of  light,  glowing 
with  heat  drawn  from  Him,  and  made  diffusive  by  His 
touch,  spreading  itself  out  beneficent  and  life-bringing 
into  all  colder  lands,  swathing  the  world  in  soft,  warm 
folds,  and  turning  the  polar  ice  into  sweet  waters. 

In  the  tabernacle  of  Israel  stood  two  great  emblems  of 
the  functions  of  God's  people,  which  embodied  these  two 
sides  of  the  Christian  life.  Day  by  day,  there  ascended 
from  the  altar  of  incense  the  sweet  odour,  which  sym- 


vs.  1,6, 7]  THE  HEAVENLY  WORKERS         213 

bolised  the  fragrance  of  prayer  as  it  wreathes  itself  up- 
wards to  the  heavens.  Night  by  night,  as  darkness  fell 
on  the  desert  and  the  camp,  there  shone  through  the 
gloom  the  hospitable  light  of  the  great  golden  candle- 
stick with  its  seven  lamps,  whose  steady  rays  outburned 
the  stars  that  paled  with  the  morning.  Side  by  side 
they  proclaimed  to  Israel  its  destiny  to  be  the  light  of 
the  world,  to  be  a  kingdom  of  priests. 

The  offices  and  the  honour  have  passed  over  to  us,  and 
we  shall  fall  beneath  our  obligations  unless  we  let  our 
light  shine  constantly  before  men,  and  let  our  voice  rise 
like  a  fountain  night  and  day  '  before  God — even  as  He 
did  who,  when  every  man  went  to  his  own  house,  went 
alone  to  the  Mount  of  Olives,  and  in  the  morning,  when 
every  man  returned  to  his  daily  task,  went  into  the 
Temple  and  taught.  By  His  example,  by  His  gifts,  by 
the  motive  of  His  love,  our  resting,  working^  Lord  says 
to  each  of  us,  '  Ye  that  remind  God,  keep  not  silence. ' 
Let  us  answer,  *  For  Zion's  sake  will  I  not  hold  my 
peace,  and  for  Jerusalem's  sake  I  will  not  rest.' 

III.  Finally,  The  constant  activity  of  the  servants 
of  Christ  will  secure  the  constant  operation  of  God's 
power. 

'  Give  Him  no  rest ' :  let  there  be  no  cessation  to  Him. 
These  are  bold  words,  which  many  people  would  not  have 
been  slow  to  rebuke  if  they  had  been  anywhere  else  than 
in  the  Bible.  Those  who  remind  God  are  not  to  suffer 
Him  to  be  still.  The  prophet  believes  that  they  can  reg- 
ulate the  flow  of  divine  energy,  can  stir  up  the  strength 
of  the  Lord. 

It  is  easy  to  puzzle  ourselves  with  insoluble  questions 
about  the  co-operation  of  God's  power  and  man's;  but 
practically,  is  it  not  true  that  God  reaches  His  end,  of  the 


214  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lxii. 

establishment  of  Zion,  through  the  Church?  He  has  not 
barely  willed  that  the  world  should  be  saved,  nor  barely 
that  it  should  be  saved  through  Christ,  nor  barely  that 
it  should  be  saved  through  the  knowledge  of  Christ ;  but 
His  will  is  that  the  world  shall  be  saved,  by  faith  in  the 
person  and  work  of  Christ,  proclaimed  as  a  gospel  by 
men  who  believe  it.  And,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  is  it  not 
true  that  the  energy  with  which  God's  power  in  the  gos- 
pel manifests  itself  depends  on  the  zeal  and  activity  and 
prayerfulness  of  the  Church?  The  great  reservoir  is 
always  full — full  to  the  brim ;  however  much  may  be 
drawn  from  it,  the  water  sinks  not  a  hairsbreadth;  but 
the  bore  of  the  pipe  and  the  power  of  the  pumping- 
engine  determine  the  rate  at  which  the  stream  flows 
from  it.  '  He  could  there  do  no  mighty  works  because 
of  their  unbelief.'  The  obstruction  of  indifference 
dammed  back  the  water  of  life.  The  city  perishes  for 
thirst  if  the  long  line  of  aqueduct  that  strides  across  the 
plain  towards  the  home  of  the  mountain  torrents  be  ruin- 
ous, broken  down,  choked  with  rubbish. 

God  is  always  the  same — equally  near,  equally  strong, 
equally  gracious.  But  our  possession  of  His  grace,  and 
the  impartation  of  His  grace  through  us  to  others,  vary, 
because  our  faith,  our  earnestness,  our  desires,  vary. 
True,  these  no  doubt  are  also  His  gifts  and  His  working, 
and  nothing  that  we  say  now  touches  in  the  least  on  the 
great  truth  that  God  is  the  sole  originator  of  all  good  in 
man ;  but  while  believing  that,  as  no  less  sure  in  itself 
than  blessed  in  its  message  of  confidence  and  consolation 
to  us,  we  also  have  to  remember,  '  If  any  man  open  the 
door,  I  will  come  in  to  him.'  We  may  have  as  much  of 
God  as  we  want,  as  much  as  we  can  hold,  far  more  than 
we  deserve.     And  if  ever  the  victorious  power  of  His 


vs.  1,6, 7]  THE  HEAVENLY  WORKERS         215 

Church  seems  to  be  almost  paling  to  defeat,  and  His  ser- 
vants to  be  working  no  deliverance  upon  the  earth,  the 
cause  is  not  to  be  found  in  Him  who  is  '  without  varia- 
bleness, '  nor  'in  His  gifts,  which  are  '  without  repen- 
tance, '  but  solely  in  us,  who  let  go  our  hold  of  the  Eter- 
nal Might.  No  ebb  withdraws  the  waters  of  that  great 
ocean ;  and  if  sometimes  there  be  sand  and  ooze  where 
once  the  flashing  flood  brought  life  and  motion,  it  is  be- 
cause careless  warders  have  shut  the  sea-gates. 

An  awful  responsibility  lies  on  us.  We  can  resist  and 
refuse,  or  we  can  open  our  hearts  and  draw  into  our- 
selves His  strength.  We  can  bring  into  operation  those 
energies  which  act  through  faithful  men  faithfully  pro- 
claiming the  faithful  saying ;  or  we  can  limit  the  Holy 
One  of  Israel.  '  Why  could  not  we  cast  him  out? ' 
*  Because  of  your  unbelief. ' 

With  what  grand  confidence,  then,  may  the  weakest 
of  us  go  to  his  task.  We  have  a  right  to  feel  that  in  all 
our  labour  God  works  with  us ;  that,  in  all  our  words  for 
Him,  it  is  not  we  that  speak,  but  the  Spirit  of  our  Father 
that  speaks  in  us ;  that  if  humbly  and  prayerfully,  with 
self -distrust  and  resolute  effort  to  crucify  our  own  intru- 
sive individuality,  we  wait  for  Him  to  enshrine  Himself 
within  us,  strength  will  come  to  us,  drawn  from  the 
deep  fountains  of  God,  and  we  too  shall  be  able  to  say, 
'  Not  I,  but  the  grace  of  God  in  me. ' 

How  this  sublime  confidence  should  tell  on  our  char- 
acters, destroying  all  self-confidence,  repressing  all  pride, 
calming  all  impatience,  brightening  all  despondency,  and 
ever  stirring  us  anew  to  deeds  worthy  of  the  '  exceeding 
greatness  of  the  power  which  worketh  in  us  ' — I  can  only 
suggest. 

On  all  sides  motives  for  strenuous  toil  press  in  upon  us 


216  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lxii. 

— chiefly  those  great  examples  which  we  have  now  been 
contemplating.  But,  besides  these,  there  are  other 
forms  of  activity  which  may  point  the  same  lesson. 
Look  at  the  energy  around  us.  We  live  in  a  busy  time. 
Life  goes  swiftly  in  all  regions.  Men  seem  to  be  burn- 
ing away  faster  than  ever  before,  in  an  atmosphere  of 
pure  oxygen.  Do  we  work  as  hard  for  God  as  the  world 
does  for  itself?  Look  at  the  energy  beneath  us:  how  evil 
in  every  form  is  active ;  how  lies  and  half-truths  propa- 
gate themselves  quick  as  the  blight  on  a  rose-tree;  how 
profligacy,  and  crime,  and  all  the  devil's  angels  are  busy 
on  his  errands.  If  we  are  sitting  drowsy  by  our  camp- 
fires,  the  enemy  is  on  the  alert.  You  can  hear  the 
tramp  of  their  legions  and  the  rumble  of  their  artillery 
through  the  night  as  they  march  to  their  posts  on  the 
field.  It  is  no  time  for  God's  sentinels  to  nod.  If  they 
sleep,  the  adversary  does  not,  but  glides  in  the  congenial 
darkness,  sowing  his  baleful  tares.  Do  we  work  as  hard 
for  God  as  the  emissaries  of  evil  do  for  their  master? 
Look  at  the  energy  above  us.  On  the  throne  of  the 
universe  is  the  immortal  Power  who  slumbereth  not  nor 
sleepeth.  Before  the  altar  of  the  heavens  is  the  Priest 
of  the  world,  the  Lord  of  His  Church,  '  who  ever  liveth 
to  make  intercession  for  us.'  Eound  Him  stand  per- 
fected spirits,  the  watchmen  on  the  walls  of  the  New 
Jerusalem,  who  '  rest  not  day  and  night,  saying.  Holy, 
Holy,  Holy,  Lord  God  Almighty. '  From  His  presence 
come,  filUng  the  air  with  the  rustle  of  their  swift  wings 
and  the  light  of  their  flame-faces,  the  ministering  spirits 
who  evermore  '  do  His  commandments,  hearkening  to 
the  voice  of  His  word.'  And  we,  Christian  brethren, 
where  are  we  in  all  this  magnificent  concurrence  of  ac- 
tivity, for  purposes  which  ought  to  be  dear  to  our  hearts 


vs.  1,6,7]  MIGHTY  TO  SAVE  217 

as  they  are  to  the  heart  of  God?  Do  we  work  for  Him 
as  He  and  all  that  are  with  Him  do?  Is  His  will  done 
by  us  on  earth,  as  it  is  heaven? 

Alas!  alas!  have  we  not  all  been  like  those  three  apos- 
tles whose  eyes  were  heavy  with  sleep  even  while  the 
Lord  was  wrestling  with  the  tempter  under  the  gnarled 
olives  in  the  pale  moonlight  of  Gethsemane?  Let  us 
arouse  ourselves  from  our  sloth.  Let  us  lift  up  our  cry 
to  God :  '  Awake,  awake,  put  on  strength,  0  arm  of  the 
Lord,  as  in  the  ancient  days  in  the  generations  of  old  ' ; 
and  the  answer  shall  sound  from  the  heavens  to  us  as  it 
did  to  the  prophet,  an  echo  of  his  prayer  turned  into 
a  command,  '  Awake,  awake,  put  on  thy  strength,  0 
Zion.' 

MIGHTY  TO  SAVE 

'Mighty  to  save.' — Isaiah  Ixiii.  1. 

We  have  here  a  singularly  vivid  and  dramatic  prophecy, 
thrown  into  the  form  of  a  dialogue  between  the  prophet 
and  a  stranger  whom  he  sees  from  afar  striding  along 
from  the  mountains  of  Edom,  with  elastic  step,  and  dyed 
garments.  The  prophet  does  not  recognise  him,  and 
asks  who  he  is.  The  Unknown  answers,  '  I  that  speak 
in  righteousness,  mighty  to  save.'  Another  question 
follows,  seeking  explanation  of  the  splashed  crimson 
garments  of  the  stranger,  and  its  answer  tells  of 
a  tremendous  act  of  retributive  destruction  which  he 
has  recently  launched  at  the  nations  hostile  to  '  My  re- 
deemed.' 

Now  we  note  that  this  prophecy  follows,  both  in  the 
order  of  the  book  and  in  the  evolution  of  events,  on  those 
in  chapter  Ixi.,  which  referred  to  our  Lord's  work  on 


218  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH     [ch.  lxiii. 

earth,  and  in  chapter  Ixii.,  which  has  for  part  of  its 
theme  His  intercession  in  heaven.  And  we  are  entitled 
to  take  the  view  that  the  place  as  well  as  the  substance 
of  this  prophecy  referred  to  the  solemn  act  of  final  Judg- 
ment in  which  the  returning  Lord  will  manifest  Himself. 
Very  significant  is  it  that  the  prophet  does  not  recognise 
in  this  Conqueror,  with  blood-besipattered  robes,  the 
meek  sufferer  of  chapter  liii.,  or  Him  who  in  chapter 
Ixi.  came  to  bind  up  the  broken-hearted.  And  very  in- 
structive is  it  that  the  title  in  our  text  comes  from  the 
stranger's  own  lips,  as  relevant  to  the  tremendous  act 
of  judgment  from  which  He  is  seen  returning.  The 
title  might  seem  rather  to  look'back  to  the  former  mani- 
festation of  Him  as  bearing  our  griefs  and  carrying  our 
sorrows.  It  does  indeed,  thank  God,  look  back  to  that 
never-to-be-forgotten  miracle  of  mercy  and  power,  but 
it  also  brings  within  the  sweep  of  His  saving  might  the 
judgment  still  to  come. 

I.  The  mighty  Saviour  as  made  known  in  the  past  and 
present. 

We  think  much  of  the  meek  and  gentle  side  of  Christ's 
character.  Perhaps  we  do  not  think  enough  of  the 
strength  of.  it.  We  trace  His  great  sacrifice  to  His  love, 
and  we  can  never  sufficiently  adore  that  incomparable 
manifestation  of  a  love  deeper  than  our  plummets  can 
fathom.  But  probably  we  do  not  sufficiently  realise 
what  gigantic  strength  went  to  the  completion  of  that 
sacrifice.  We  know  the  solemn  imagining  of  a  great  ar- 
tist who  has  painted  a  colossal  Death  overbearing  the 
weak  resistance  of  a  puny  Love ;  but  here  love  is  the 
giant,  and  his  sovereign  command  brings  Death  obe- 
dient to  it,  to  do  his  work.  Yes,  that  weak  man  hang- 
ing on  the  Cross  is  therein  revealed  as  'the  power  of  God. ' 


V.  1]  MIGHTY  TO  SAVE  219 

Strange  clothing  of  weakness  which  yet    cannot  hide 
the  mighty  Hmbs  that  wear  it! 

And  if  we  think  of  our  Lord's  life  we  see  the  same 
combination  of  gentleness  and  power.  His  very  name 
rings  with  memories  of  the  captain  whose  one  com- 
manded duty  was  to  '  be  strong  and  of  a  good  courage. ' 

In  Him  was  all  strength  of  manhood — inflexible,  iron 
will,  unchanging  purpose,  strength  from  consecration, 
strength  from  righteousness.  In  Him  was  the  heroism 
of  prophets  and  martyrs  in  supreme  degree. 

In  Him  was  the  strength  of  indwelling  Divinity.  He 
fought  and  conquered  all  man's  enemies,  routed  sin, 
and  triumphed  over  Death. 

In  the  Cross  we  see  divine  power  in  operation  in  its 
noblest  form,  in  its  intensest  energy,  in  its  widest  sweep, 
in  its  most  magnificent  result.  He  is  able  to  save,  to 
save  all,  to  save  any. 

He  is  mighty  to  save,  and  is  able  to  save  unto  the  ut- 
termost, because  He  lives  for  ever,  and  His  power  is 
eternal  as  Himself. 
(  >         II.  The  mighty  Saviour  as  to  be  manifested  in  the 
future. 

Clearly  the  imagery  of  the  context  describes  a  tremen- 
dous act  of  judgment.  And  as  clearly  the  Apocalyptic 
Seer  understood  this  prophecy  as  not  only  pointing  to 
Christ,  but  as  to  be  fulfilled  in  the  final  act  of  judgment. 
He  quotes  its  words  when  he  paints  his  magnificent  vis- 
ion of  the  Conqueror  riding  forth  on  his  white  horse, 
with  garments  sprinkled  with  blood  and  treading  the 
'  winepress  of  the  fierceness  and  wrath  of  Almighty 
God. '  And  the  vision  is  interpreted  unmistakably  when 
we  read  that,  though  this  Conqueror  had  a  name  un- 
known to  any  but  Himself,  '  His  name  is  called  the 


220  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  lxiii. 

Word  of  God.'  So  the  unity  of  person  in  the  Word 
made  flesh  who  dwelt  among  us,  full  of  grace  and  of  this 
Mighty  One  girt  for  battle,  is  taught. 

Keeping  fast  hold  of  this  clue,  the  contrast  between 
the  characteristics  of  the  historical  Jesus  and  of  the  rider 
on  the  white  horse  becomes  solemn  and  full  of  warning. 
And  the  contrast  between  the  errand  of  the  historical 
Jesus  and  that  of  the  Conqueror  bids  us  ponder  on  the 
possibilities  that  may  sleep  in  perfect  love.  We  have  to 
widen  our  conceptions,  if  we  have  thought  of  our  Jesus 
only  as  love,  and  have  thought  of  love  as  shallow,  as 
most  men  do.  We  are  sometimes  told  that  these  two 
pictures,  that  of  the  Christ  of  the  Gospels  and  that  of 
the  Christ  of  the  Apocalypse,  are  incapable  of  being 
fused  together  in  one  original.  But  they  can  be  stereo- 
scoped,  if  we  may  say  so.  And  they  must  be,  if  we  are 
ever  to  understand  the  greatness  of  His  love  or  the  terri- 
bleness  of  His  judgments.  '  The  wrath  of  the  Lamb' 
sounds  an  impossibility,  but  if  we  ponder  it,  we  shall 
find  depths  of  graciousness  as  well  as  of  awe  in  it. 

Let  us  learn  that  the  righteous  Judge  is  logically  and 
chronologically  the  completion  of  the  picture  of  the 
merciful  Saviour.  In  this  age  there  is  a  tendency  to 
treat  sin  with  too  much  pity  and  too  little  condemnation. 
And  there  is  not  a  sufficiently  firm  grasp  of  the  truth 
that  divine  love  must  be  in  irreconcilable  antagonism 
with  human  sin,  and  can  do  nothing  but  chastise  and 
smite  it. 

III.  The  saving  purpose  of  even  that  destructive 
might. 

Through  the  whole  Old  Testament  runs  the  longing 
that  God  would  '  awake  '  to  smite  evil. 

The  tragedy  of  the  drowned  hosts  in  the  Red  Sea,  and 


V.  1]  MIGHTY  TO  SAVE  221 

Miriam  and  her  maidens  standing  with  their  timbrels 
and  shrill  song  of  triumph  on  the  bank,  is  a  prophecy  of 
what  shall  be.  '  Ye  shall  have  a  song  as  in  the  night  a 
holy  feast  is  kept,  and  gladness  of  heart  as  when  one 
goeth  with  a  pipe  to  come  unto  the  mountain  of  the 
Lord.'  And  at  the  thought  of  that  solemn  act  of  judg- 
ment they  who  love  the  Judge,  and  have  long  known 
Him,  '  may  lift  up  their  heads '  in  the  confidence  that 
'  their  redemption  draweth  nigh. '  That  is  the  last,  and 
in  some  sense  the  mightiest,  greatest  act  by  which  He 
shows  Himself  '  mighty  to  save  His  redeemed. ' 

So  we  may,  like  the  prophet,  see  that  swift  form  strid- 
ing nearer  and  nearer,  but,  unlike  the  prophet,  we  need 
not  to  ask,  '  Who  is  this  that  cometh? '  for  we  have 
known  Him  from  of  old,  and  we  remember  the  voice 
that  said,  '  This  same  Jesus  shall  so  come  in  like  manner 
as  ye  have  seen  Him  go  into  heaven.'  'Herein  is  our 
love  made  perfect,  that  we  may  have  boldness  before 
Him  in  the  day  of  judgment. ' 

THE  WINEPRESS  AND  ITS  TREADER 

'Wherefore  art  thou  red  in  thine  apparel,  and  thy  garments  like  him 
that  treadeth  in  the  winefat?  I  have  trodden  the  winepress  alone.' — 
Isaiah  Ixiii.  2,  3. 

The  structure  of  these  closing  chapters  is  chronological, 
and  this  is  the  final  scene.  What  follows  is  epilogue. 
The  reference  of  this  magnificent  imagery  to  the  suffer- 
ings of  Jesus  is  a  complete  misapprehension.  These 
sufferings  were  dealt  with  once  for  all  in  chapter  liii., 
and  it  is  Messiah  triumphant  who  has  filled  the  prophet's 
vision  since  then. 

I.  The  treading  of  the  winepress. 

The  nations  are  flung  into  the  press,  as  ripe  grapes. 


222  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  lxiii. 

The  picture  is  plainly  a  figure  of  some  tremendous  judg- 
ment in  which  the  powers  that  oppose  the  majestic  march 
of  the  triumphant  Messiah  will  be  crushed  and  trampled 
to  ruin.  They  are  trodden  '  in  Mine  anger,  and  their 
life-blood  is  sprinkled  on  My  garments. '  It  is  He  who 
crushes,  not  He  who  is  crushed.  The  winepress  which 
He  treads  is  the  '  winepress  of  the  wrath  of  Almighty 
God,'  and  His  treading  of  it  is  His  executing  of  God's 
judgments  on  those  whose  antagonism  to  Him  and  to 
His  '  redeemed  '  has  brought  them  within  their  sweep. 
The  prophetic  imagination  kindles  and  casts  its  thought 
into  that  terrible  picture,  which  some  fastidious  people 
would  think  coarse,  of  a  peasant  standing  up  to  his 
knees  in  a  vat  heaped  with  purple  clusters,  and  fiercely 
trampling  them  down,  while  the  red  juice  splashes  upon 
his  girt-up  clothes. 

The  prophet  does  not  date  his  vision.  It  has  been 
realised  many  a  time,  and  will  be  many  a  time  still. 
Wherever  opposition  to  Christ  and  His  kingdom  has 
reached  ripeness,  wherever  antagonistic  tendencies  have 
borne  fruit  which  has  matured,  the  winepress  is  set  up 
and  the  treading  begins.  '  Wheresoever  the  carcass  is, 
there  will  the  eagles  be  gathered  together. '  '  Imme- 
diately he  putteth  in  the  sickle  because  the  harvest  is 
done.'  The  judgments  tarry  long,  and  Christ's  serv- 
ants, oppressed  or  hard  pressed,  get  impatient,  and  cry 
'  How  long,  O  Lord,  dost  Thou  not  judge?  It  is  time 
for  Thee  to  work. '  But  long  patience  precedes  the  di- 
vine awaking,  for  it  is  not  God's  way  nor  Christ's  to  cut 
down  even  a  cumbering  tree,  until  the  possibility  of  its 
bearing  fruit  is  plainly  ended,  and  the  last  use  that  He 
makes  of  anything  is  to  burn  it.  The  repeated  settings 
up  of  Christ's  winepress  have  all  been  one  in  principle, 


vs.  2, 3]  WINEPRESS  AND  ITS  TREADER   223 

and  they  all  point  onwards  to  a  final  one.  There  have 
been  many  'days  of  the  Lord,'  and  if  men  were  wise 
and  '  observed  these  things, ' — which  most  of  them  are 
not, — they  would  see  that  these  lesser  'days'  made  a 
'  final  great  and  terrible  day  of  the  Lord '  supremely 
probable,  and  in  perfect  analogy  with  all  that  experience 
and  history  have  testified  as  to  the  method  of  the  divine 
government. 

Surely  it  is  strange  that  the  groundless  expectation  of 
the  unbroken  continuance  of  the  present  order  should  be 
so  strong  that  many  should  utterly  ignore  the  truth 
taught  by  such  teachers  as  these,  and  reiterated  by 
science,  which  declares  that  the  physical  universe  had  a 
beginning  and  will  have  an  end,  and  confirmed  by  Jesus 
Himself.  There  will  come  a  to-morrow  when  the  sun 
will  not  rise.  There  will  come  a  to-morrow  which  will 
be  '  the  day  of  the  Lord, '  of  which  all  these  earlier  and 
partial  epochs  of  judgment  were  but  precursors  and 
prophets. 

II.  The  Treader  of  the  Winepress. 

The  context  clearly  shows  that,  in  the  prophet's  view, 
the  suffering  Messiah  in  His  exalted  royalty  is  the  agent 
of  this,  as  of  all  divine  acts.  He  is  clothed  with  majesty, 
and  it  is  '  in  His  hand,'  or  through  His  agency,  that  all 
'  the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  '  is  brought  to  pass.  The  con- 
trast with  the  figure  in  chap.  liii.  is  ever  to  be  kept  in 
view.  The  lowliness,  the  weales  and  bruises,  the  form 
without  comeliness  are  gone,  and  for  these  we  see  a  con- 
queror, glorious  in  apparel  and  striding  onwards  in  con- 
scious strength. 

But  the  access  of  majesty  does  not  imply  the  putting 
off  of  lowliness  and  meekness.  There  is  much  that  is 
severe  and  terrible  in  the  figure  that  rises  here  before 


224  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  lxiii. 

the  prophet's  vision,  but  both  aspects  equally  belong  to 
the  glorified  Christ,  and  that  duality  in  His  character 
makes  each  element  more  impressive.  His  long-suffering 
mercy  and  more  than  human  tenderness  do  not  hamper 
His  arm  when  it  is  bared  to  smite;  His  judicial  severity 
does  not  dam  up  the  flow  of  His  mercy  and  tenderness. 
When  He  was  on  earth,  He  wept  over  Jerusalem,  but 
His  tears  did  not  hinder  His  pronouncing  woe  on  the 
city.  His  love  leads  Him  to  warn  before  He  smites,  but 
it  does  not  contradict  His  threatenings,  nor  augur  our 
impunity.  Nay  rather,  love  compels  Him  to  smite. 
And,  more  terrible  still,  it  is  His  very  love  that  smites 
most  severely  hearts  that  have  rejected  it  and  learn  their 
folly  and  sin  too  late. 

III.  Why  the  winepress  is  trodden. 

The  context  tells  us.  The  triumphant  figure,  seen  by 
the  prophet  striding  onwards  from  Edom,  answers  the 
question  as  to  His  identity  with,  '  I  that  speak  in  right- 
eousness, mighty  to  save.'  Then  the  treading  of  the 
winepress,  from  which  He  is  represented  as  coming,  is 
regarded  as  an  exemplification  of  both  these  character- 
istics. It  is  a  great  act  of  righteousness.  It  is  a  great 
act  of  salvation.  Similarly,  He  is  represented  as  having 
been  moved  to  that  destructive  judgment  by  the  '  ven- 
geance '  that  burned  in  His  heart,  and  by  His  seeing 
that  there  were  none  to  help  His  '  redeemed.' 

So,  then,  the  destructive  act  is  a  manifestation  of 
Righteousness,  which  in  such  a  connection  means  retrib- 
utive justice.  Awe-inspiring  as  it  may  be,  the  thun- 
derstorm brings  relief  to  a  world  sweltering  in  a  stag- 
nant atmosphere,  and  each  blinding  flash  freshens  the 
air.  '  When  the  wicked  perish,  there  is  shouting. '  The 
destruction  of  some  hoary  evil  that  has  long  afflicted 


vs.  2-3]  WINEPRESS  AND  ITS  TREADER     225 

humanity  and  blocked  the  progress  of  the  kingdom 
which  is  '  righteousness  and  peace  and  joy,'  is  a  good, 
Christ's  '  terrible  things '  are  all  '  in  righteousness,'  and 
meant  to  set  Him  forth  as  '  the  confidence  of  ail  the 
ends  of  the  earth.'  To  clear  His  character  and  govern- 
ment from  all  suspicion  of  moral  indifference,  to  demon- 
strate by  facts  which  the  blindest  can  see,  that  it  is  not 
all  the  same  to  Him  whether  men  are  good  or  bad,  to 
write  in  great  letters  which,  like  the  capitals  on  a  map, 
stretch  across  a  whole  land,  '  The  Judge  of  all  the  earth 
shall  do  right ' — surely  these  are  worthy  ends  to  move 
even  the  loving  Christ  to  tread  the  winepress. 

Further,  His  destructive  judgments,  however  terrible, 
will  always  be  accurately  measured  by  righteousness. 
They  are  not  outbursts  of  feeling ;  they  are  in  exact  cor- 
respondence with  the  evils  that  bring  them  down.  The 
lava  flows  according  to  its  own  density  and  the  lie  of  the 
land  which  it  covers.  These  judgments  are  deformed  by 
no  undue  severity ;  no  base  elements  of  temper,  no  errors 
as  to  the  degree  of  criminality  mar  them.  They  are 
calm  and  absolutely  accurate  judgments  of  Him  who  is 
not  only  just  but  Justice. 

But  the  context  further  teaches  us  that  the  true  point 
of  view  from  which  to  regard  Christ's  treading  of  the 
winepress  is  to  think  of  it  as  redemptive  and  contribu- 
tory to  the  salvation  of  'My  redeemed.'  Therefore 
there  follows  immediately  on  this  picture  of  the  con- 
queror treading  the  peoples  in  His  fury  and  pouring 
their  life-blood  on  the  earth,  the  song  of  the  delivered. 
Up  through  the  troubled  air,  heavy  with  thunder-clouds, 
soars  their  praise,  as  a  lark  might  rise  and  pour  its 
strains  above  a  volcano  in  eruption — '  I  will  mention  the 
lovingkindness  of  the  Lord,  and  the  praises  of  the  Lord, 

VOL    II.  P 


226  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  lxiii. 

according  to  all  that  the  Lord  hath  bestowed  on  us  and 
the  great  goodness  toward  the  house  of  Israel  which  He 
hath  bestowed  on  them,  according  to  His  mercies,  and 
according  to  the  multitude  of  His  lovingkindnesses. ' 
Pharaoh  is  drowned  in  the  Eed  Sea ;  Miriam  and  her 
maidens  on  the  bank  clash  their  cymbals,  and  lift  shrill 
voices  in  their  triumphant  hymn.  Babylon  sinks  like  a 
millstone  in  the  great  waters — '  and  I  heard  as  it  were  a 
great  voice  of  a  great  multitude  in  heaven  saying,  Hal- 
lelujah ;  salvation  and  glory  and  power  belong  to  our 
God,  for  true  and  righteous  are  His  judgments.'  The 
innermost  impulse  of  judgment  is  love. 


THE  SYMPATHY   OF  GOD 

'  In  all  their  afflictions  He  was  afflicted,  and  the  angel  of  His  presence 
saved  them.' — Isaiah  lxiii.  9. 

I.  The  wonderful  glimpse  opened  here  into  the  heart 
of  God.  , 

It  is  not  necessary  to  touch  upon  the  difference  be- 
tween the  text  and  margin  of  the  Eevised  Version,  or  to 
enter  on  the  reason  for  preferring  the  former.  And 
what  a  deep  and  wonderful  thought  that  is,  of  divine 
sympathy  with  human  sorrow!  We  feel  that  this  tran- 
scends the  prevalent  tone  of  the  Old  Testament.  It  is 
made  the  more  striking  by  reason  of  the  other  sides  of 
the  divine  nature  which  the  Old  Testament  gives  so 
strongly ;  as,  for  instance,  the  unapproachable  elevation 
and  absolute  sovereignty  of  God,  and  the  retributive 
righteousness  of  God. 

Affliction  is  His  chastisement,  and  is  ever  righteously 
inflicted.  But  here  is  something  more,  tender  and 
strange.     Sympathy  is  a  necessary  part  of  love.     There 


V.  9]  THE  SYMPATHY  OF  GOD  227 

is  no  true  affection  which  does  not  put  itself  in  the  place 
and  share  the  sorrows  of  its  objects.  And  His  sympathy 
is  none  the  less  because  He  inflicts  the  sorrow.  These 
afflictions  wherein  He  too  was  afflicted,  were  sent  by 
Him.  Like  an  earthly  father  who  suffers  more  than  the 
child  whom  he  chastises,  the  Heavenly  Father  feels  the 
strokes  that  He  inflicts. 

That  sympathy  is  consistent  with  the  blessedness  of 
God.  Even  in  the  pain  of  our  human  sympathy  there 
is  a  kind  of  joy,  and  we  may  be  sure  that  in  His  nature 
there  is  nothing  else. 

Contrast  with  other  thoughts  about  God. 

The  vague  agnosticism  of  the  present  day,  which 
knows  only  a  dim  Something  of  which  we  can  predicate 
nothing. 

The  God  of  the  philosophers — whom  we  are  bidden  to 
think  of  as  passionless  and  unemotional.  No  wave  of 
feeling  ever  ripples  that  tideless  sea.  The  attribute  of 
infinitude  or  sovereign  completeness  is  dwelt  on  with 
such  emphasis  as  to  obscure  all  the  rest. 

The  gods  of  men's  own  creation  are  careless  in  their 
happiness,  and  cruel  in  their  vengeance.  But  here  is  a 
God  for  all  the  weary  and  the  sorrowful.  What  a 
thought  for  us  in  our  own  burdened  days ! 

H.  The  mystery  of  the  divine  salvation. 

Of  course  the  salvation  here  spoken  of  is  the  deliver- 
ance from  Egyptian  bondage.  This  is  a  summary  of  the 
Exodus.  But  we  must  mark  well  that  significant  ex- 
pression, '  the  angel  of  His  face  '  or  '  presence. '  We  can 
only  attempt  a  partial  and  bald  enumeration  of  some  of 
the  very  remarkable  references  to  that  mysterious  per- 
son, '  the  angel  of  the  Lord  '  or  '  of  the  presence. '  The 
dying  Jacob  ascribed  his  being  '  redeemed  from  all  evil ' 


228  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  lxiii. 

to  '  the  Angel, '  and  invoked  his  blessing  on  '  the  lads. ' 
'  The  angel  of  the  Lord  '  appeared  to  Moses  out  of  the 
midst  of  the  burning  bush.  On  Sinai,  Jehovah  promised 
to  send  an  '  angel '  in  whom  was  His  own  name,  before 
the  people.  The  promise  was  renewed  after  Israel's  sin 
and  repentance,  and  was  then  given  in  the  form,  '  My 
presence  shall  go  with  thee. '  Joshua  saw  a  man  with  a 
drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  who  declared  himself  to  be  the 
Captain  of  the  Lord's  host.  '  The  angel  of  the  Lord  ' 
appeared  to  Manoah  and  his  wife,  withheld  his  name 
from  them  because  it  was  '  wonderful '  or  '  secret, '  ac- 
cepted their  sacrifice,  and  went  up  to  heaven  in  its  flame. 
Wherefore  Manoah  said,  '  We  have  seen  God.'  Long 
after  these  early  visions,  a  psalmist  knows  himself  safe 
because  '  the  angel  of  the  Lord  encampeth  round  about 
them  that  fear  Him. '  Hosea,  looking  back  on  the  story 
of  Jacob's  wrestling  at  Peniel,  says,  first,  that  '  he  had 
power  with  God,  yea,  he  had  power  over  the  angel,'' 
and  then  goes  on  to  say  that  '  there  He  spake  with  us, 
even  Jehovah. '  And  Malachi,  on  the  last  verge  of  Old 
Testament  prophecy,  goes  furthest  of  all  in  seeming  to 
run  together  the  conceptions  of  Jehovah  and  the  Angel 
of  Jehovah,  for  he  says,  '  The  Lord  whom  ye  seek  shall 
suddenly  come  to  His  temple ;  and  the  angel  of  the  cove- 
nant .  .  .  behold,  he  cometh. '  From  this  imperfect 
resume,  we  see  that  there  appears  in  the  earliest  as  in 
the  latest  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  a  person  distin- 
guished from  the  hosts  of  angels,  identified  in  a  very 
remarkable  manner  with  Jehovah,  by  alternation  of 
names,  in  attributes  and  offices,  and  in  receiving  wor- 
ship, and  being  the  organ  of  His  revelation.  That  spe- 
cial relation  to  the  divine  revelation  is  expressed  by  both 
the  representation  that  '  Jehovah's  name  is  in  him, '  and 


V.  9]  THE  SYMPATHY  OF  GOD  229 

by  the  designation  in  our  text,  'the  angel  of  His  pres- 
ence, '  or  literally,  '  of  His  face. '  For  '  name '  and 
*  face  '  are  in  so  far  synonymous  that  they  mean  the  side 
of  the  divine  nature  which  is  turned  to  the  world. 

For  the  present  I  go  no  further  than  this.  It  is  clear, 
then,  that  our  text  is  at  all  events  remarkable,  in  that 
it  ascribes  to  this  '  angel  of  His  presence '  the  praise  of 
Jehovah's  saving  work.  The  loving  heart,  afflicted  in 
all  their  afflictions,  sends  forth  the  messenger  of  His  face, 
and  by  Him  is  salvation  wrought.  The  whole  sum  of 
the  deliverance  of  Israel  in  the  past  is  attributed  to  Him. 
Surely  this  must  have  been  felt  by  a  devout  Jew  to  con- 
ceal some  great  mystery. 

III.  The  crowning  revelation  both  of  the  heart  of  God 
and  of  His  saving  power. 

(a)  Jesus  Christ  is  the  true  '  angel  of  the  face. ' 

I  do  not  need  to  enter  on  the  question  of  whether  in 
the  Old  Testament  the  angel  of  the  Covenant  was  indeed 
a  pre-manifestation  of  the  eternal  Son.  I  am  disposed 
to  answer  it  in  the  affirmative.  But  be  that  as  it  may, 
all  that  was  spoken  of  the  angel  is  true  of  Him.  God's 
name  is  in  Him,  and  that  not  in  fragments  or  half-sylla- 
bles but  complete.  The  face  of  God  looks  lovingly  on 
men  in  Him,  so  that  Jesus  could  declare,  '  He  that  hath 
seen  Me  hath  seen  the  Father.'  His  presence  brings 
God's  presence,  and  He  can  venture  to  say,  'TFe  will 
come  and  make  our  abode  with  Him. '  He  is  the  agent 
of  the  divine  salvation. 

The  identity  and  the  difference  are  here  in  their  high- 
est form. 

(6)  The  mystery  of  God's  sharing  our  sorrows  is  ex- 
plained in  Him. 

We  may  find  a  difficulty  in  the  thought  of  a  suffering 


230  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  lxiii. 

and  sympathising  God.  But  if  we  believe  that  '  My 
name  is  in  Him, '  then  the  sympathy  and  gentleness  of 
Jesus  is  the  compassion  of  God.  This  is  a  true  revela- 
tion. So  tears  at  the  grave  sighs  in  healing,  and  all  the 
sorrows  which  He  bore  are  an  unveiling  of  the  heart  of 
God. 

That  sharing  our  sorrows  is  the  very  heart  of  His 
work.  We  might  almost  say  that  He  became  man  in 
order  to  increase  His  power  of  sympathy,  as  a  prince 
might  temporarily  become  a  pauper.  But  certainly  He 
became  man  that  He  might  bear  our  burdens.  '  Him- 
self took  our  infirmities. '  '  Forasmuch  as  the  children 
are  partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,  He  himself  also  like- 
wise took  part  of  the  same. ' 

The  atoning  death  is  the  climax  of  Christ's  being  af- 
flicted with  our  afflictions.  His  priestly  sympathy  flows 
out  now  and  for  ever  to  us  all. 

So  complete  is  His  unity  with  God,  that  He  works  the 
salvation  which  is  God's,  and  that  God's  name  is  in  Him. 
So  complete  is  His  union  with  us,  that  our  sorrows  touch 
Him  and  His  life  becomes  ours.  '  Ye  have  done  it  unto 
Me.'     '  Saul,  Saul,  why  persecutest  thou  Me?  ' 

For  us  in  all  our  troubles  there  are  no  darker  rooms 
than  Christ  has  been  in  before  us.  We  are  like  prison- 
ers put  in  the  same  cell  as  some  great  martyr.  He 
drank  the  cup,  and  we  can  put  the  rim  to  our  lips  at  the 
place  that  His  lips  have  touched.  But  not  only  may  we 
have  our  sufferings  lightened  by  the  thought  that  He  has 
borne  the  same,  and  that  we  know  the  '  fellowship  of 
Christ's  sufferings, '  but  we  have  the  further  alleviation 
of  being  sure  that  He  makes  our  afflictions  His  by  per- 
fect sympathy,  and,  still  more  wonderful  and  blessed, 
that  there  is  such  unity  of  life  and  sensation  between  the 


V.  9]  HOW  TO  MEET  GOD  231 

Head  and  the  members  that  our  afflictions  are  His,  and 
are  not  merely  made  so. 

'  Think  not  thou  canst  sigh  a  sigh, 
And  thy  Saviour  is  not  by; 
Think  not  thou  canst  shed  a  tear 
And  thy  Saviour  is  not  near.' 

Do  not  front  the  world  alone.     In  all  our  afflictions 
He  is  with  us ;  out  of  them  all  He  saves. 

HOW   TO  MEET  GOD 

'Thou  meetest  him  that  rejoiceth  and  worketh  righteousness,  those 
that  remember  Thee  in  Thy  ways.' — Isaiah  Ixiv.  5. 

The  prophet  here  shows  us  how  there  is  a  great  staircase 
which  we  ourselves  build,  which  leads  straight  from 
earth  to  heaven,  and  how  we  can  secure  that  we  shall 
meet  with  God  and  God  with  us.  '  Isaiah  '  is  often  called 
the  evangelical  prophet.  He  is  so,  not  only  because  of 
his  predictions  of  the  suffering  Servant  of  Jehovah  which 
are  '  fulfilled  '  in  Christ,  but  because  his  conceptions  of 
the  religious  life  tremble  on  the  very  verge  of  the  full- 
orbed  teaching  of  the  New  Testament.  In  these  ancient 
words  of  my  text,  in  very  different  phraseology  indeed, 
we  see  a  strikingly  accurate  and  full  anticipation  of  the 
very  central  teaching  of  Paul  and  his  brother  apostles, 
as  to  the  way  by  which  God  and  man  come  into  union 
with  one  another.  '  Thou  meetest  him  that  rejoiceth  ' ; 
that  joy  is  to  be  manifested  by  '  working  righteousness, ' 
but  the  joy  which  is  the  parent  of  righteousness  is  the 
child  of  something  else — '  those  that  remember  Thee  in 
Thy  ways.'  If  we  ponder  these  words,  and  carefully 
mark  their  relation  to  each  other,  we  may  discern,  as  it 
were,  a  great  staircase  with  three  flights  in  it,  and  at 
the  top  God's  face. 

We  have  to  begin  with  the  last  clause  of  our  text — 


232  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  lxiv. 

'Thou  meetest  him  .  .  .  that  remembers  Thee  in  Thy 
ways. ' 

The  first  stage  on  the  road  which  will  bring  any  man 
into,  and  keep  any  man  in,  contact  with  God,  and  loving 
fellowship  with  Him,  is  the  contemplation  of  His  char- 
acter as  it  is  made  known  to  us  by  His  acts.  God,  like 
man,  is  known  by  His  'fruits.'  You  cannot  get  at  a 
clear  conception  of  God  by  speculation,  or  by  thinking 
about  Him  or  about  what  He  is  in  Himself.  Lay  hold 
of  the  clue  of  His  acts,  and  it  leads  you  straight  into  His 
heart.  But  the  act  of  acts,  in  which  the  whole  Godhead 
concurs,  in  which  all  its  depths  and  preciousness  are  con- 
centrated, like  wine  in  a  golden  cup,  is  the  incarnation 
and  life  and  death  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  There,  and 
not  in  the  thoughts  of  our  own  hearts  nor  the  tremors  of 
our  own  consciences,  nor  in  the  enigmatical  witness  of 
Providence — which  is  enigmatical  until  it  is  interpreted 
in  the  ligth  of  the  Incarnation  and  the  Crucifixion — 
there  we  see  most  clearly  the  '  ways  '  of  God,  the  beaten, 
trodden  path  by  which  He  is  wont  to  come  forth  out  of 
the  thick  darkness  into  which  no  speculation  can  peer  an 
inch,  and  walk  amongst  men.  The  cross  of  Christ,  and, 
subordinately,  His  other  dealings  with  us,  as  interpreted 
thereby,  is  the  'way  of  the  Lord,'  from  everlasting  to 
everlasting.  And  it  is  by  a  loving  gaze  upon  that '  way  ' 
that  we  learn  to  know  Him  for  what  He  is.  It  is  there, 
and  there  only,  that  the  thick  darkness  passes  into  glori- 
ous light.  It  is  at  that  point  alone  that  the  closed  circle 
of  the  Infinite  nature  of  Deity  opens  so  as  that  a  man  can 
press  into  the  very  centre  of  the  glory,  and  feel  himself 
at  home  in  the  blaze.  It  is  '  those  that  remember  Thee 
in  Thy  ways, '  and  especially  in  that  way  of  righteous- 
ness and  peace,  the  way  of  the  cross — it  is  they  who  have 


V.  5]  HOW  TO  MEET  GOD  233 

built  the  first  flight  of  the  solemn  staircase  that  leads  up 
from  the  lownesses  and  darknesses  of  earth  into  the  lofti- 
nesses and  lights  of  heaven. 

But  note  that  word  '  Eemember, '  for  it  suggests  the 
warning  that  such  contemplation  of  the  ways  of  the 
Lord  will  not  be  realised  by  us  without  effort.  We  shall 
forget,  assuredly,  unless  we  earnestly  try  to  '  remem- 
ber. '  There  are  so  many  things  within  us  to  draw  us 
away,  the  duties,  and  the  joys,  and  the  sorrows  of  life 
so  insist  upon  having  a  place  in  our  hearts  and  thoughts, 
that  assuredly,  unless  by  resolute  effort,  frequently  re- 
peated, we  clear  a  space  in  this  crowded  and  chattering 
market-place,  where  we  can  stand  and  gaze  on  the  white 
summits  far  beyond  the  bustling  crowd,  we  shall  never 
see  them,  though  they  are  visible  from  every  place. 
Unless  you  try  to  remember,  you  will  certainly  forget. 

Many  voices  preach  to-day  many  duties  for  Christians. 
Let  me  plead  for  times  of  quiet,  for  times  of  '  doing ' 
nothing,  for  fruitful  times  of  growth,  for  times  when  we 
turn  all  the  rout  and  rabble  of  earthly  things,  and  even 
the  solemn  company  of  pressing  duties,  out  of  our  hearts 
and  thoughts,  and  shut  up  ourselves  alone  with  God. 
Be  sure  you  will  never  build  even  the  first  step  of  the 
staircase  unless  you  know  what  it  is  to  go  into  the  secret 
place  of  the  Most  High,  and,  alone  with  God,  to  summon 
to  *  the  sessions  of  sweet,  silent  thought '  His  ways,  and 
especially  Him  who  is  '  the  Way, '  both  of  God  to  us,  and 
of  us  to  God. 

Now,  the  second  flight  of  this  great  staircase  is  pointed 
out  in  the  first  clause  of  my  text :  '  Thou  meetest  him 
that  rejoiceth. ' 

That  meditative  remembrance  of  the  ways  of  God  will 
be  the  parent  of  holy  joy  which  will  bring  God  near  to 


234  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH    [ch.  lxiv. 

our  heart.  Alas!  it  is  too  often  the  very  opposite  of  true 
that  men's  joys  are  such  as  to  bring  God  to  them.  The 
excitement,  and  often  the  impure  elements,  that  mingle 
with  what  the  world  calls  '  joy, '  are  such  as  to  shut  Him 
out  from  us.  But  there  is  a  gladness  which  comes  from 
the  contemplation  of  Him  as  He  is,  and  as  He  is  known 
by  His  '  ways '  to  be,  which  brings  us  very  near  to  God, 
and  God  very  near  to  us.  It  is  that  joy  which  was 
spoken  of  in  an  earlier  part  of  this  context :  '  I  will  greatly 
rejoice  in  the  Lord,  My  soul  shall  be  joyful  in  my  God; 
for  He  hath  clothed  me  with  the  garments  of  salvation. ' 
Here,  then,  is  the  second  stage — gladness,  deep,  pure, 
based  upon  the  contemplation  of  God's  character  as  man- 
ifested in  His  work.  I  do  not  think  that  the  ordinary 
type  of  modern  Christianity  is  half  joyful  enough.  And 
I  think  that  we  have  largely  lost  the  very  thought  that 
gladness  is  a  plain  Christian  duty,  to  be  striven  after  in 
the  appropriate  manner  which  my  text  suggests,  and 
certainly  to  be  secured  if  we  seek  it  in  the  right  way. 
We  all  know  how  outward  cares,  and  petty  annoyances, 
and  crushing  sorrows,  and  daily  anxieties,  and  the  tear 
and  wear  of  work,  and  our  own  restlessness  and  ungov- 
ernableness,  and  the  faults  that  still  haunt  our  lives,  and 
sometimes  make  us  feel  as  if  our  Christianity  was  all  a 
sham — how  all  these  things  are  at  enmity  with  joy  in 
God.  But  in  face  of  them  all,  I  would  echo  the  old 
grand  words  of  the  epistle  of  gladness  written  by  the 
apostle  in  prison,  and  within  hail  of  his  death :  '  Eejoice 
in  the  Lord  alway,  and  again  I  say  rejoice. '  Recognise 
it  as  your  duty  to  be  glad,  and  if  it  is  hard  to  be  so,  ask 
yourselves  whether  you  are  doing  what  will  make  you 
so,  remembering  '  Thee  in  Thy  ways. '  That  is  the  sec- 
ond flight  of  the  staircaS^. 


V.  5]  HOW  TO  MEET  GOD  235 

The  third  stage  is  working  righteousness  because  of 
such  joy.  '  Thou  meetest  him  that  rejoiceth,  and  ' — be- 
cause he  does — '  worketh  righteousness. '  Every  master 
knows  how  much  more  work  can  be  got  out  of  a  servant 
who  works  with  a  cheery  heart  than  out  of  one  that  is 
driven  reluctantly  to  his  task.  You  remember  our  Lord's 
parable  where  He  traces  idleness  to  fear :  '  I  knew  thee 
that  thou  wast  an  austere  man,  gathering  where  thou 
didst  not  strew,  and  I  was  afraid,  and  I  went  and  hid 
thy  talent. '  No  work  was  got  out  of  that  servant  be- 
cause there  was  no  joy  in  him.  The  opposite  state  of 
mind — diligence  in  righteous  work,  inspired  by  gladness 
which  in  its  turn  is  inspired  by  the  remembrance  of 
God's  ways — is  the  mark  of  a  true  servant  of  God.  The 
prophet's  words  have  the  germ  of  the  full  New  Testa- 
ment doctrine  that  the  first  step  to  all  practical  obe- 
dience and  righteous  living  is  the  recognition  of  the 
great  truth  of  Christ's  death  for  us  on  the  Cross;  that 
the  second  step  is  the  acceptance  of  that  great  work,  and 
the  gladness  that  comes  from  the  assurance  of  forgive- 
ness and  acceptance  with  God,  and  that  the  issue  of  both 
these  things,  the  preached  gospel  and  the  faith  that 
grasps  it  and  the  love  by  which  the  faith  is  followed,  is 
obedience,  instinct  with  willingness  and  buoyant  with 
joyfulness,  and  therefore  tending  to  be  perfect  in  degree 
and  in  kind.  The  work  that  is  worth  doing,  the  work 
which  God  regards  as '  righteous, '  comes,  and  comes  only, 
from  the  motives  of  '  remembering  Thee  in  Thy  ways, ' 
and  rejoicing  because  we  do  remember. 

And  the  gladness  which  is  wholesome  and  blessed,  and 
is  '  joy  in  the  Lord, '  will  manifest  itself  by  efflorescing 
into  all  holiness  and  all  loftiness  and  largeness  of  obe- 
dience.    You  may  try  to  frighten  men  into  righteous- 


236  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH      [ch.  lxiv. 

ness,  you  will  never  succeed.  You  may  try  to  coerce 
their  wills,  and  your  strongest  bands  will  be  broken  as 
the  iron  chains  were  by  the  demoniac.  But  put  upon 
them  the  silken  leash  of  love,  and  you  may  lead  them 
where  you  will.  You  cannot  grow  grapes  on  an  iceberg, 
and  you  cannot  get  works  of  righteousness  out  of  a  man 
that  has  a  dread  of  God  at  the  back  of  his  heart,  killing 
all  its  joy.  But  let  the  spring  sunshine  come,  and  then 
all  the  frost-bound  earth  opens  and  softens,  and  the  ten- 
der green  spikelets  push  themselves  up  through  the 
brown  soil,  and  in  due  time  come  '  the  blade,  and  the 
ear,  and  the  full  corn  in  the  ear.'  Isaiah  anticipated 
Paul  when  he  said,  '  Thou  meetest  him  that  rejoiceth 
and  worketh  righteousness. ' 

Lastly,  we  have  the  landing-place  to  which  the  stair 
leads.  God  comes  to  such  a  man.  He  meets  him  in- 
deed at  all  the  stages,  for  there  is  a  blessed  communion 
with  God,  that  springs  immediately  from  remembering 
Him  in  His  ways,  and  a  still  more  blessed  one  that 
springs  from  rejoicing  in  His  felt  friendship  and  Father- 
hood, and  a  yet  more  blessed  one  that  comes  from  prac- 
tical righteousness.  For  if  there  is  anything  that  breaks 
our  communion  with  God,  it  is  that  there  linger  in  our 
lives  evils  which  make  it  impossible  for  God  and  us  to 
come  close  together.  The  thinnest  film  of  a  non-con- 
ductor will  stop  the  flow  of  the  strongest  electric  cur- 
rent, and  an  almost  imperceptible  film  of  self-will  and 
evil,  dropped  between  oneself  and  God,  will  make  a  bar- 
rier impermeable  except  by  that  divine  Spirit  who  work- 
eth upon  a  man's  heart  and  who  may  thin  away  the  film 
through  his  repentance,  and  then  the  Father  and  the 
prodigal  embrace.  '  Thou  meetest  him, '  not  only  *  that 
worketh  righteousness, '  but  that  hates  his  sin. 


V.  5]        'THE  GOD  OF  THE  AMEN'  237 

Only  remember,  if  there  is  the  practice  of  evil,  there 
cannot  be  the  sunshine  of  the  Presence  of  God.  But  re- 
member, too,  that  the  commonest,  homeliest,  smallest, 
most  secular  tasks  may  become  the  very  highest  steps  of 
the  staircase  that  brings  us  into  His  Presence.  If  we  go 
about  our  daily  work,  however  wearisome  and  vulgar 
and  commonplace  it  often  seems  to  us,  and  make  it  a 
work  of  righteousness  resting  on  the  joy  of  salvation, 
and  that  reposing  on  the  contemplation  of  God  as  He  is 
revealed  in  Jesus  Christ,  our  daily  work  may  bring  us 
as  close  to  God  as  if  we  dwelt  in  the  secret  place  of  the 
Most  High,  and  the  market  and  the  shop  may  be  a  tem- 
ple where  we  meet  with  Him. 

Dear  brethren,  there  are  two  kinds  of  meeting  God : 
'  Thou  meetest  him  that  rejoiceth  and  worketh  right- 
eousness,' and  that  is  blessed,  as  when  Christ  met  the 
two  disciples  on  the  road  to  Emmaus.  There  is  another 
kind  of  meeting  with  God.  *  Who,  making  war,  sitteth 
not  down  first,  and  consulteth  whether  he  be  able  with 
ten  thousand  to  meet  him  that  cometh  against  him  with 
twenty  thousand? ' 

'THE  GOD   OF  THE  AMEN' 

'He  who  blesseth  himself  in  the  earth  shall  bless  himself  in  the  God  of 
truth;  and  he  that  sweareth  in  the  earth  shall  swear  by  the  God  of  truth.' 
— Isaiah  Ixv.  16. 

The  full  beauty  and  significance  of  these  remarkable 
words  are  only  reached  when  we  attend  to  the  literal 
rendering  of  a  part  of  them  which  is  obscured  in  our 
version.  As  they  stand  in  the  original  they  have,  in 
both  cases,  instead  of  the  vague  expression,  '  The  God  of 
truth, '  the  singularly  picturesque  one,  '  The  God  of  the 
Amen.' 


238  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH     [ch.  lxv. 

I.  Note  the  meaning  of  the  name.  Now,  Amen  is  an 
adjective,  which  means  literally  firm,  true,  reliable,  or 
the  like.  And,  as  we  know,  its  liturgical  use  is  that,  in 
the  olden  time,  and  to  some  extent  in  the  present  time, 
it  was  the  habit  of  the  listening  people  to  utter  it  at  the 
close  of  prayer  or  praise.  But  besides  this  use  at  the 
end  of  some  one  else's  statement,  which  the  sayer  of  the 
'  Amen  '  confirms  by  its  utterance,  we  also  find  it  used 
at  the  beginning  of  a  statement,  by  the  speaker,  in  order 
to  confirm  his  own  utterance  by  it. 

And  these  two  uses  of  the  expression  reposing  on  its 
plain  meaning,  in  the  first  instance  signifying,  '  I  tell 
you  that  it  is  so  ' ;  and  in  the  second  instance  signifying, 
'  So  may  it  be! '  or,  '  So  we  believe  it  is,'  underlie  this 
grand  title  which  God  takes  to  Himself  here,  '  the  God 
of  the  Amen, '  both  His  Amen  and  ours.  So  that  the 
thought  opens  up  very  beautifully  and  simply  into  these 
two.  His  truth  and  our  faith. 

First,  it  emphasises  the  absolute  truthfulness  of  every 
word  that  comes  from  His  lips.  There  is  implied  in  the 
title  that  He  really  has  spoken,  and  declared  to  man 
something  of  His  will,  something  of  His  nature,  some- 
thing of  His  purposes,  something  of  our  destiny.  And 
now  He  puts,  as  it  were,  the  broad  seal  upon  the  charter 
and  says,  '  Amen!  Verily  it  is  so,  and  My  word  of  Rev- 
elation is  no  man's  imagination,  and  My  word  of  com- 
mand is  the  absolute  unveiling  of  human  duty  and  hu- 
man perfectness,  and  My  word  of  promise  is  that  upon 
which  a  man  may  rest  all  his  weight  and  be  safe  for 
ever.'  God's  word  is  'Amen!'  man's  word  is  *  per- 
haps. '  For  in  regard  to  the  foundation  truths  of  man's 
belief  and  experience  and  need,  no  human  tongue  can 
venture  to  utter  its  own  asseverations  with  nothing  be- 


V.  16]       *THE  GOD  OF  THE  AMEN'  239 

hind  them  but  itself,  and  expect  men  to  accept  them ; 
but  that  is  exactly  what  God  does,  and  alone  has  the 
right  to  do.  His  word  absolutely,  and  through  and 
through,  in  every  fibre  of  it,  is  reliable  and  true. 

Now  do  not  forget  that  there  was  one  who  came  to 
us  and  said,  'Amen!  Amen!  I  say  unto  you.'  Jesus 
Christ,  in  all  His  deep  and  wonderful  utterances,  arro- 
gated to  Himself  the  right  which  God  here  declares  to 
be  exclusively  His,  and  He  said,  '  I  too  have,  and  I  too 
exercise,  the  right  and  the  authority  to  lay  My  utter- 
ances down  before  you,  and  expect  you  to  take  them  be- 
cause of  nothing  else  than  because  I  say  them. '  God  is 
the  God  of  the  Amen!  The  last  book  of  Scripture,  when 
it  draws  back  the  curtain  from  the  mysteries  of  the  glo- 
rified session  of  Jesus  Christ  at  the  right  hand  of  God, 
makes  Him  say  to  us,  '  These  things  saith  the  Amen! ' 
And  if  you  want  to  know  what  that  means,  its  explana- 
tion follows  in  the  next  clause,  'the  faithful  and  true 
witness. ' 

But  then,  on  the  other  hand,  necessarily  involved  in 
this  title,  though  capable  of  being  separately  considered, 
is  not  only  the  absolute  truthfulness  of  the  divine  word, 
but  also  the  thorough-going  reliance,  on  our  parts, 
which  that  word  expects  and  demands.  God's  '  Amen,' 
and  '  Verily, '  of  confirmation,  should  ever  cause  the 
'  Amen  '  of  acceptance  and  assent  to  leap  from  our  lips. 
If  He  begins  with  that  mighty  word,  so  soon  as  the  sol- 
emn voice  has  ceased  its  echo  should  rise  from  our 
hearts.  The  city  that  cares  for  the  charter  which  its 
King  has  given  it  will  prepare  a  fitting,  golden  recepta- 
cle in  which  to  treasure  it.  And  the  men  who  believe 
that  God  in  very  deed  has  spoken  laws  that  illuminate, 
and  commandments  that  guide,  and  promises  that  calm 


240  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH     [ch.  lxv. 

and  strengthen  and  fulfil  themselves,  will  surely  prepare 
in  their  hearts  an  appropriate  receptacle  for  those  pre- 
cious and  infallible  words.  God's  truth  has  correspond- 
ing to  it  our  trust.  God's  faithfulness  demands,  and  is 
only  adequately  met  by,  our  faith.  If  He  gives  us  the 
sure  foundation  to  build  upon,  it  will  be  a  shame  for  us 
to  bring  wood,  hay,  stubble,  and  build  these  upon  the 
Rock  of  Ages.  The  building  should  correspond  with  its 
foundation,  and  the  faith  which  grasps  the  sure  word 
should  have  in  it  something  of  the  unchangeableness  and 
certainty  and  absoluteness  of  that  word  which  it  grasps. 
If  His  revelation  of  Himself  is  certain,  you  and  I  ought 
to  be  certain  of  His  revelation  of  Himself.  Our  certi- 
tude should  correspond  to  its  certainty. 

Ah!  my  friend,  what  a  miserable  contrast  there  is 
between  the  firm,  unshaken,  solid  security  of  the  divine 
word  upon  which  we  say  that  we  trust,  and  the  poor, 
feeble,  broken  trust  which  we  build  upon  it.  '  Let  not 
that  man  think  that  He  shall  receive  anything  of  the 
Lord  ' ;  but  let  us  expect,  as  well  as  '  ask,  in  faith,  noth- 
ing wavering  ' ;  and  let  our  '  Amen!  '  ring  out  in  answer 
to  God's. 

The  Apostle  Paul  has  a  striking  echo  of  the  words  of 
my  text  in  the  second  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians :  '  All 
the  promises  of  God  in  Him  are  yea!  and  through  Him 
also  is  the  Amen ! '  The  assent,  full,  swift,  frank — the 
assent  of  the  believing  heart  to  the  great  word  of  God 
comes  through  the  same  channel,  and  reaches  God  by 
the  same  way,  as  God's  word  on  which  it  builds  comes 
to  us.  The  '  God  of  the  Amen,'  in  both  senses  of  the 
word,  is  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
who  is  the  seal  as  well  as  the  substance  of  the  divine 
promises,  and  whose  voice  in  us  is  the  answer  to,  and 


V.  16]       'THE  GOD  OF  THE  AMEN'  241 

the  grasp  of,  the  promises  of  which  He  is  the  substance 
and  soul. 

II.  Now  notice,  next,  how  this  God  of  the  Amen  is, 
by  reason  of  that  very  characteristic,  the  source  of  all 
blessing. 

'  He  who  blesseth  himself  in  the  earth  shall  bless  him- 
self in  the  God  of  Truth.'  That  phrase  of  blessing  one- 
self in,  which  is  a  frequent  Old  Testament  expression,  is 
roughly  equivalent  to  invoking,  and  therefore  receiving, 
blessing  from.  You  find  it,  for  instance,  in  the  seventy- 
second  Psalm,  in  that  grand  burst  which  closes  one  of 
the  books  of  the  Psalter  and  hails  the  coming  of  the 
Messianic  times,  of  which  my  text  also  is  a  prediction. 
*  Men  shall  be  blessed  in  Him, '  or  rather,  '  shall  bless 
themselves  in  Him,'  which  is  a  declaration,  that  all 
needful  benediction  shall  come  down  upon  humanity 
through  the  coming  Messias,  as  well  as  that  men  shall 
recognise  in  that  Messias  the  source  of  all  their  blessing 
and  good.  So  the  text  declares  that,  in  those  days  that 
are  yet  to  come,  the  whole  earth  shall  be  filled  with  men 
whose  eyes  have  been  purged  from  ignorance  and  sin, 
and  from  the  illusions  of  sense  and  the  fascinations  of 
folly,  and  who  have  learned  that  only  in  the  God  of  the 
Amen  is  the  blessing  of  their  life  to  be  found. 

Of  course  it  is  so.  For  only  on  Him  can  I  lean  all  my 
weight  and  be  sure  that  the  stay  will  not  give.  All 
other  bridges  across  the  great  abysses  which  we  have  to 
traverse  or  be  lost  in  them,  are  like  those  snow-cornices 
upon  some  Alp,  which  may  break  when  the  climber  is 
on  the  very  middle  of  them,  and  let  him  down  into  black- 
ness out  of  which  he  will  never  struggle.  There  is  only 
one  path  clear  across  the  deepest  gulf,  which  we  poor 
pilgrims  can  tread  with  absolute  safety  that  it  will  never 

VOL.  II.  Q. 


242  THE  BOOK  OF  ISAIAH     [ch.  lxv, 

yield  beneath  our  feet.  My  brother!  there  is  one  sup- 
port that  is  safe,  and  one  stay  upon  which  a  man  can 
lean  his  whole  weight  and  be  sure  that  the  staff  will 
never  either  break  or  pierce  his  palm,  and  that  is  the 
faithful  God,  in  whose  realm  are  no  disappointments, 
amongst  whose  trusters  are  no  heart-broken  and  deceived 
men,  but  who  gives  bountifully,  and  over  and  above  all 
that  we  are  able  to  ask  or  think.  They  who  have  made 
experience,  as  we  have  all  made  experience,  of  the  in- 
sufficiency of  earthly  utterances,  of  the  doubtfulness  of 
the  clearest  words  of  men,  of  the  possible  incapacity  of 
the  most  loving,  to  be  what  they  pledge  themselves  to 
be,  and  of  the  certainty  that  even  if  they  are  so  for  a 
while  they  cannot  be  so  always — have  surely  learned 
one  half,  at  least,  of  the  lesson  that  life  is  meant  to 
teach  us ;  and  it  is  our  own  fault  if  we  have  not  bettered 
it  with  the  better  half,  having  uncoiled  the  tendrils  of 
our  hearts  from  the  rotten  props  round  which  they  have 
been  too  apt  to  twine  themselves,  and  wreathed  them 
about  the  pillars  of  the  eternal  throne,  which  can  never 
shake  nor  fail.  '  He  that  blesseth  himself  in  the  earth 
shall  bless  himself ' — unless  he  is  a  fool — '  in  the  God  of 
the  Amen! '  and  not  in  the  man  of  the  '  peradventure. ' 

III.  Lastly,  note  how  the  God  of  the  Amen  should  be 
the  pattern  of  His  servants. 

'  He  that  sweareth  in  the  earth  shall  swear  by  the  God 
of  truth, '  or,  '  of  the  Amen. '  The  prophet  deduces  from 
the  name  the  solemn  thought  that  those  who  truly  feel 
its  significance  will  shape  their  words  accordingly,  and 
act  and  speak  so  that  they  shall  not  fear  to  call  His  pure 
eyes  to  witness  that  there  are  neither,  hypocrisy,  nor  in- 
sincerity, nor  vacillation,  nor  the  '  hidden  things  of  dis- 
honesty, '  nor  any  of  the  skulking  meannesses  of  craft 


V.  16]         THE  GOD  OF  THE  AMEN'  243 

and  self-seeking  in  them.  '  I  swear  by  the  God  of  the 
Amen,  and  call  Thy  faithfulness  to  witness  that  I  am 
trying  to  be  like  Thee, '  that  is  what  we  ought  to  do  if 
we  call  ourselves  Christians.  If  we  have  any  hold  at  all 
of  Him,  and  of  His  love,  and  of  the  greatness  and  maj- 
esty of  His  faithfulness,  we  shall  try  to  make  our  poor 
little  lives,  in  such  measure  as  the  dewdrops  may  be  like 
the  sun,  radiant  like  His,  and  of  the  same  shape  as  His, 
for  the  dewdrop  and  the  sun  are  both  of  them  spheres. 
That  is  exactly  what  the  apostle  does,  in  that  same 
chapter  in  2  Cor.,  to  which  I  already  referred.  He  takes 
these  very  thoughts  of  my  text,  and  in  their  double  as- 
pect too,  and  says,  '  Just  because  God  is  faithful,  do  you 
Corinthians  think  that,  when  I  told  you  that  I  was  com- 
ing to  see  you,  I  did  not  mean  it?  '  He  brings  the  great- 
est thought  that  He  can  find  about  God  and  God's 
truth,  down  to  the  settlement  of  this  very  little  matter, 
the  vindication  of  Himself  from  the  charge,  on  the  one 
hand,  of  facile  and  inconsiderate  vacillation,  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  of  insincerity.  So,  we  may  say,  the  great- 
est thoughts  should  regulate  the  smallest  acts.  Though 
our  maps  be  but  a  quarter  of  aninch  to  a  hundred  miles, 
let  us  see  that  they  are  drawn  to  scale.  Let  us  see  that 
He  is  our  Pattern ;  and  that  the  truthfulness,  the  sim- 
plicity, and  faithfulness,  which  we  rest  upon  as  the  very 
foundation  of  our  intellectual  as  well  as  our  moral  and 
religious  being,  are,  in  our  measure,  copied  in  ourselves. 
'  As  God  is  faithful, '  said  Paul,  *  our  word  to  you  was 
not  yea!  and  nay! '  And  they  who  are  trusting  to  the 
God  of  the  Amen!  will  live  in  all  simplicity  and  godly 
sincerity ;  their  yea  will  be  yea,  and  their  nay,  nay. 


THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH 

GOD'S  LAWSUIT 

'Wherefore  1  will  yet  plead  with  you,  saith  the  Lord,  and  with  your 
children's  children  will  I  plead.' — Jeb.  ii.  9. 

Point  out  that  '  plead  '  is  a  forensic  term.  There  is  a 
great  lawsuit  in  which  God  is  plaintiff  and  men  de- 
fendants.    The  word  is  frequent  in  Isaiah, 

I.  The  reason  for  God's  pleading. 

The  cause — '  wherefore, '  Our  transgression  does  not 
make  Him  turn  away  from  us.  It  does  profoundly 
modify  the  whole  relation  between  us.  It  does  give  an 
aspect  of  antagonism  to  His  dealings. 

II.  The  manner. 

The  whole  history  of  the  world  and  of  each  individual. 
All  outward  providences.  All  the  voice  of  Conscience. 
Christ.     Spirit,  who  convinces  the  world  of  Sin. 

III.  The  purpose. 

Wholly  our  being  drawn  from  our  evil.  The  purely 
reformatory  character  of  all  punishment  here.  The  sole 
object  to  win  us  back  to  Himself,  He  conquers  in  this 
lawsuit  when  we  come  to  love  Him. 

IV.  The  patience. 

That  merciful  pleading — '  I  will  yet ' — runs  on  through 
all  sin,  and  is  only  made  more  earnest  by  deepening  hos- 
tility. After  rejections  still  lingers.  Extends  over  a 
thousand  generations.  Is  exercised  even  where  He  fore- 
sees failure. 


245 


STIFF-NECKED  IDOLATERS  AND  PLIABLE 
CHRISTIANS 

'Hath  a  nation  changed  their  gods,  which  are  yet  no  gods?  but  My  peo- 
ple have  changed  their  glory  for  that  which  doth  not  profit.' — Jer.  ii.  11. 

The  obstiuacy  of  the  adherents  of  idolatry  is  in  striking 
contrast  with  Israel's  continual  tendency  to  forsake  Je- 
hovah. It  reads  a  scarcely  less  forcible  lesson  to  many 
nominal  and  even  to  some  real  Christians. 

I.  That  contrast  carries  v^ith  it  a  disclosure  of  the  re- 
spective origins  of  the  two  kinds  of  Religion. 

The  strangeness  of  the  contrasted  conduct  is  intensified 
when  we  take  into  account  the  tremendous  contrast  be- 
tween the  two  Objects  of  worship.  Israel's  God  was 
Israel's  '  Glory  ' ;  the  idol- worshipper  bowed  down  before 
'  that  which  doth  not  profit, '  and  yet  no  experience  of 
God  could  bind  His  fickle  worshippers  to  Him,  and  no  ex- 
perience of  the  impotence  of  the  idol  could  shake  its  vo- 
taries' devotion.  They  cried  and  were  not  heard.  They 
toiled  and  had  no  results.  They  broke  their  teeth  on 
'  that  which  is  not  bread, '  and  filled  their  mouths  with 
gritty  ashes  that  mocked  them  with  a  semblance  of 
nourishment  and  left  them  with  empty  stomachs  and 
excoriated  gums,  yet  by  some  strange  hallucination 
they  clung  to  '  vanities, '  while  Israel  was  always  hank- 
ering after  opportunity  to  desert  Jehovah.  The  stage  of 
civilisation  partly  accounts  for  the  strange  fascination  of 
idolatry  over  the  Israelites.  But  the  deeper  solution  lies 
in  the  fact  that  the  one  religion  rises  from  the  hearts  of 
men,  corresponds  to  their  moral  condition,  and  is  largely 
moulded  by  their  lower  nature;  while  the  other  is  from 
above,  corresponds,  indeed,  with  the  best  and  deepest 
longings  and  needs  of  souls,  but  contravenes  many  of 

246 


V.  11]       STIFF-NECKED  IDOLATERS  247 

their  most  clamant  wishes,  and  necessarily  sets  before 
them  a  standard  high  and  difficult  to  reach.  Men  make 
their  gods  in  their  own  image,  and  are  conscious  of  no 
rebuke  nor  stimulus  to  loftier  living  when  they  gaze  on 
them.  The  God  of  Eevelation  bids  men  remake  them- 
selves in  His  image,  and  that  command  requires  endless 
effort.  The  average  man  has  to  put  a  strain  on  his  in- 
tellect in  order  to  rise  to  the  apprehension  of  God,  and  a 
still  more  unwelcome  strain  on  his  moral  nature  to  rise 
to  the  imitation  of  God.  No  wonder,  then,  if  the  dwell- 
ers on  the  low  levels  should  cleave  to  them,  and  the  pil- 
grims to  the  heights  should  often  weary  of  their  toil  and 
be  distressed  with  the  difficulty  of  breathing  the  thin 
air  up  there,  and  should  give  up  climbing  and  drop  down 
to  the  flats  once  more. 

II.  That  contrast  carries  with  it  a  rebuke. 

Many  voices  echo  the  prophet's  contrast  nowadays. 
Our  travelling  countrymen,  especially  those  of  them 
who  have  no  great  love  for  earnest  religion,  are  in  the 
habit  of  drawing  disparaging  contrasts  between  Buddh- 
ists, Brahmins,  Mohammedans,  any  worshippers  of 
other  gods  and  Christians.  One  may  not  uncharitably 
suspect  that  a  more  earnest  Christianity  would  not 
please  these  critics  much  better  than  does  the  tepid  sort, 
and  that  the  pictures  they  draw  both  of  heathenism  and 
of  Christianity  are  coloured  by  their  likes  and  dislikes. 
But  it  is  well  to  learn  from  an  enemy,  and  caricatures 
may  often  be  useful  in  calling  attention  to  features 
which  would  escape  notice  but  for  exaggeration.  So  we 
may  profit  by  even  the  ill-natured  and  distorted  like- 
nesses of  ourselves  as  contrasted  with  the  adherents  of 
other  religions  which  so  many  '  liberal-minded  '  writers 
of  travels  delight  to  supply. 


248  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH       [ch.  ii. 

Think,  then,  of  the  rebuke  which  the  obstinate  adhe- 
rence of  idolaters  to  their  idols  gives  to  the  slack  hold 
which  so  many  professing  Christians  have  on  their 
religion. 

Think  of  the  way  in  which  these  lower  religions  per- 
vade the  whole  life  of  their  worshippers,  and  of  how  par- 
tial is  the  sway  over  a  little  territory  of  life  and  conduct 
which  Christianity  has  in  many  of  its  adherents.  The 
absorption  in  worship  shown  by  Mohammedans,  who  will 
spread  their  prayer  carpets  anywhere  and  perform  their 
drill  of  prayers  without  embarrassment  or  distraction  in 
the  sight  of  a  crowd,  or  the  rapt  '  devotion '  of  fakirs, 
are  held  up  as  a  rebuke  to  us  '  Christians '  who  are 
ashamed  to  be  caught  praying.  One  may  observe,  in 
mitigation,  that  the  worship  which  is  of  the  heart  is 
naturally  more  sensitive  to  surrounding  distractions 
than  that  which  is  a  matter  of  posturing  and  repetition 
by  rote.  But  there  still  remains  substance  enough  in  the 
contrast  to  point  a  sharp  arrow  of  rebuke. 

And  there  is  no  denying  that  in  these  '  heathen  '  relig- 
ions, religion  is  intertwined  with  every  act  of  life  in  a 
fashion  which  may  well  put  to  shame  many  of  us.  Re- 
member how  Paul  had  to  deal  at  length  with  the  duty 
of  the  Corinthians  in  view  of  the  way  in  which  every 
meal  was  a  sacrifice  to  some  god,  and  how  the  same  per- 
meation of  life  with  religion  is  found  in  all  these  '  false 
faiths. '  The  octopus  has  coiled  its  tentacles  round  the 
whole  body  of  its  victim.  Bad  and  sad  and  mad  as  idol- 
atry is,  it  reads  a  rebuke  to  many  of  us,  who  keep  life 
and  religion  quite  apart,  and  lock  up  our  Christianity  in 
our  pews  with  our  prayer-books  and  hymnaries. 

Think  of  the  material  sacrifices  made  by  idolaters,  in 
costly  offerings,  in  painful  self-tortures,  and  in  many 


V.  11]       FOUNTAIN  AND  CISTERNS  249 

other  ways,  and  the  niggardliness  and  self-indulgence  of 
so  many  so-called  Christians. 

III.  The  contrast  suggests  the  greatness  of  the  power 
which  can  overcome  even  such  obstinate  adherence  to 
idols. 

There  is  one,  and  only  one,  solvent  for  that  rock -like 
obstinacy — the  Gospel.  The  other  religions  have  seldom 
attempted  to  encroach  on  each  other's  territory,  and 
where  they  have,  their  instrument  of  conversion  has  gen- 
erally been  the  sword.  The  Gospel  has  met  and  mas- 
tered them  all.  It,  and  it  only,  has  had  power  to  draw 
men  to  itself  out  of  every  faith.  The  ancient  gods  who 
bewitched  Israel,  the  gods  of  Greece,  the  gods  of  our 
own  ancestors,  the  gods  of  the  islands  of  the  South  Seas, 
lie  huddled  together,  in  undistinguished  heaps,  like 
corpses  on  a  battlefield,  and  the  deities  of  India  and  the 
East  are  wounded  and  slowly  bleeding  out  their  lives. 
*  Bel  boweth  down,  Nebo  stoopeth,  the  idols  are  upon 
the  beasts, '  all  packed  up,  as  it  were,  and  ready  to  be 
carried  off. 

The  rate  of  progress  in  dethroning  them  varies  with 
the  varying  national  conditions.  It  is  easier  to  cut  a 
tunnel  through  chalk  than  through  quartz. 

IV.  That  contrast  carries  with  it  a  call  for  Christian 
effort  to  spread  the  conquering  Gospel. 

FOUNTAIN  AND  CISTERNS 

'They  have  forsaken  Me,  the  fountain  of  living  waters,  and  hewed  them 
out  cisterns,  broken  cisterns,  that  can  hold  no  water.' — Jer.  ii.  13. 

The  proclivity  of  the  Jews  to  idolatry  is  an  outstanding 
fact  all  through  their  history.  That  persistent  national 
tendency  surely  compels  us  to  recognise  a  divine  inspira- 
tion as  the  source  of  the  prophetic  teaching  and  of  the 


250  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH     [ch.  ii. 

lofty  spiritual  theology  of  the  Old  Testament,  which 
were  in  sharpest  unlikeness  and  opposition  to  the  whole 
trend  of  the  people's  thoughts. 

It  is  this  apostasy  which  is  referred  to  here.  The  false 
gods  made  by  men  are  the  broken  cisterns.  But  the  text 
embodies  a  general  truth. 

I.  The  irksomeness  of  a  godless  life. 

The  contrast  is  between  the  springing  fountain,  there 
in  the  desert,  with  the  lush  green  herbage  round  about, 
where  a  man  has  only  to  stoop  and  drink,  and  the  pain- 
ful hewing  of  cisterns. 

This  emblem  of  the  fountain  beautifully  suggests  the 
great  thought  of  God's  own  loving  will  as  the  self -origi- 
nated impulse  by  which  He  pours  out  all  good.  Apart 
from  all  our  efforts,  the  precious  gift  is  provided  for  us. 
Our  relation  is  only  that  of  receivers. 

We  have  the  contrast  with  this  in  the  laborious  toils 
to  which  they  condemn  themselves  who  seek  for  created 
sources  of  good.  '  Hewn  out  cisterns ' — think  of  a  man 
who,  with  a  fountain  springing  in  his  courtyard,  should 
leave  it  and  go  to  dig  in  the  arid  desert,  or  to  hew  the 
live  rock  in  hopes  to  gain  water.  It  was  already  spring- 
ing and  sparkling  before  him.  The  conduct  of  men, 
when  they  leave  God  and  seek  for  other  delights,  is  like 
digging  a  canal  alongside  a  navigable  river.  They  con- 
demn themselves  to  a  laborious  and  quite  superfluous 
task.     The  true  way  to  get  is  to  take. 

Illustrations  in  religion.  Think  of  the  toil  and  pains 
spent  in  idolatry  and  in  corrupt  forms  of  Christianity. 

Illustrations  in  common  life.  Your  toils — aye,  and 
even  your  pleasures — how  much  of  them  is  laboriously 
digging  for  the  water  which  all  the  while  is  flowing  at 
your  side. 


V.  13]       FOUNTAIN  AND  CISTERNS  251 

II.  The  hopelessness  of  a  godless  life. 

The  contrast  further  is  between  living  waters  and  bro- 
ken cisterns.  God  is  the  fountain  of  living  waters;  in 
other  words,  in  fellowship  with  God  there  is  full  satis- 
faction for  all  the  capacities  and  desires  of  the  soul ;  heart 
— conscience — will — understanding — hope  and  fear. 

The  contrast  of  the  empty  cisterns.  What  a  deep 
thought  that  with  all  their  work  men  only  make  '  cis- 
terns,'  i.e.  they  only  provide  circumstances  which  could 
hold  delights,  but  cannot  secure  that  water  should  be  in 
them!  The  men-made  cisterns  must  be  God-filled,  if 
filled  at  all.  The  true  joys  from  earthly  things  belong 
to  him  who  has  made  God  his  portion. 

Further,  they  are  '  broken  cisterns, '  and  all  have  in 
them  some  flaw  or  crack  out  of  which  the  water  runs. 
That  is  a  vivid  metaphor  for  the  fragmentary  satisfac- 
tion which  all  earthly  good  gives,  leaving  a  deep  yearn- 
ing unstilled.  And  it  is  temporary  as  well  as  partial. 
'  He  that  drinketh  of  this  water  shall  thirst  again  ' — 
nay,  even  as  with  those  who  indulge  in  intoxicating 
drinks,  the  appetite  increases  while  the  power  of  the 
draught  to  satisfy  it  diminishes.  But  the  crack  in  the 
cistern  points  further  to  the  uncertain  tenure  of  all 
earthly  goods  and  the  certain  leaving  of  them  all. 

All  godless  life  is  a  grand  mistake. 

III.  The  crime  of  a  godless  life. 

It  is  right  to  seek  for  happiness.  It  is  sin  to  go  away 
from  God.  You  are  thereby  not  merely  flinging  away 
your  chances,  but  are  transgressing  against  your  sa- 
credest  obligations.  Our  text  is  not  only  a  remon- 
strance on  the  grounds  of  prudence,  showing  God- 
neglecting  men  that  they  are  foolish,  but  it  is  an  appeal 
to  conscience,  convincing  them  that  they  are  sinful.    God 


252  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH     [ch.  ii. 

loves  us  and  cares  for  us.  We  are  bound  to  Him  by  ties 
which  do  not  depend  on  our  own  voHtion.  And  so  there 
is  punishment  for  the  sin,  and  the  evils  experienced  in  a 
godless  life  are  penal  as  well  as  natural. 

We  recall  the  New  Testament  modification  of  this 
metaphor,  '  The  water  that  I  shall  give  him  shall  be  in 
him  a  fountain  of  water. '  Arabs  in  desert  round  dried- 
up  springs.  Hagar.  Shipwrecked  sailors  on  a  reef. 
Christ  opens  '  rivers  in  the  wilderness  and  streams  in 
the  desert. ' 


FOESAKING  JEHOVAH 

'Know  therefore,  and  see,  that  it  is  an  evil  thing  and  bitter,  that  thou 
hast  forsaken  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  that  My  fear  is  not  in  thee,  saith  the 
Lord  God  of  hosts.' — Jer.  ii.  19. 

Of  course  the  original  reference  is  to  national  apostasy, 
which  was  aggravated  by  the  national  covenant,  and 
avenged  by  national  disasters,  which  are  interpreted  and 
urged  by  the  prophet  as  God's  merciful  pleading  with 
men.     But  the  text  is  true  in  reference  to  individuals. 

I.  The  universal  indictment. 

This  is  not  so  much  a  charge  of  isolated  overt  acts,  as 
of  departure  from  God.  That  departure,  itself  a  sin,  is 
the  fountain  of  all  other  sins.  Every  act  which  is  mor- 
ally wrong  is  religiously  a  departure  from  God ;  it  could 
not  be  done,  unless  heart  and  will  had  moved  away  from 
their  allegiance  to  Him.  So  the  solemn  mystery  of 
right  and  wrong  becomes  yet  more  solemn,  when  our 
personal  relation  to  the  personal  God  is  brought  in. 

Then — consider  what  this  forsaking  is — at  bottom 
aversion  of  will,  or  rather  of  the  whole  nature,  from 
Him. 


V.  19]  FORSAKING  JEHOVAH  253 

How  strange  and  awful  is  that  power  which  a  crea- 
ture possesses  of  closing  his  heart  against  God,  and  set- 
ting up  a  quasi-independence! 

How  universal  it  is — appeal  to  each  man's  own  con- 
sciousness. 

II.  The  special  aggravation. 

'  Thy  God  ' — the  original  reference  is  to  Israel,  whom 
God  had  taken  for  His  and  to  whom  He  had  given  Him- 
self as  theirs,  by  His  choice  from  of  old,  by  redemption 
from  Egypt,  by  covenant,  and  by  centuries  of  blessings. 
But  the  designation  is  true  in  regard  to  God  and  each 
of  us.  It  points  to  the  personal  relation  which  we  each 
sustain  to  Him,  and  so  is  a  pathetic  appeal  to  affection 
and  gratitude. 

III.  The  bitter  fruit. 

'  Evil '  may  express  rather  the  moral  character  of  for- 
saking God,  while  '  bitter '  expresses  rather  the  conse- 
quences of  it,  which  are  sorrows. 

So  the  prophet  appeals  to  experience.  As  the  Psalmist 
confidently  invites  to  '  taste  and  see  that  God  is  good, ' 
so  Jeremiah  boldly  bids  the  apostates  know  and  see  that 
departing  is  bitter. 

It  is  so,  for  it  leaves  the  soul  unsatisfied. 

It  leads  to  remorse. 

It  drags  after  it  manifold  bitter  fruits.  '  The  wages 
of  sin  is  death.' 

Sin  without  consequent  sorrow  is  an  impossibility  if 
there  is  a  God. 

IV.  The  loving  appeal. 

The  text  is  not  denunciation,  but  tender,  though  in- 
dignant, pleading,  in  hope  of  winning  back  the  wanderers. 
The  prophet  has  just  been  pointing  to  the  sorrowful  results 
which  necessarily  follow  on  the  nation's  apostasy,  and 


254  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH    [ch.  hi. 

tells  Israel  that  '  its  own  wickedness  shall  correct  it, '  and 
then,  in  the  text,  he  beseeches  them  not  to  be  blind  to 
the  meaning  of  their  miseries,  but  to  let  these  teach 
them  how  sinful  and  how  sorrowful  their  apostasy  is. 
Men's  sorrows  are  a  mystery,  but  that  sinners  should  not 
have  sorrows  were  a  sadder  mystery  still.  And  God 
pleads  with  us  all  not  to  lose  the  good  of  our  experiences 
of  the  bitterness  of  sin  by  our  levity  or  our  blindness  to 
their  meaning.  By  His  providences,  by  His  Spirit  work- 
ing on  us,  by  the  plain  teachings  and  loving  pleadings 
of  His  word.  He  is  ever  striving  to  open  our  eyes  that 
we  may  see  Good  and  Evil,  and  recognise  that  all  Good 
is  bound  up  for  us  with  cleaving  to  God,  and  all  Evil 
with  departing  from  Him.  When  we  turn  our  backs  on 
Him  we  are  full  front  with  the  deformed  figure  of  Evil ; 
when  we  turn  away  from  it,  we  are  face  to  face  with 
Him,  and  in  Him,  with  all  Good. 


A  COLLOQUY  BETWEEN   A  PENITENT  AND 

GOD 

'A  voice  was  heard  upon  the  high  places,  weeping  and  supplications  of 
the  children  of  Israel:  for  they  have  perverted  their  way,  and  they  have 
forgotten  the  Lord  their  God.  Return,  ye  backsliding  children,  and  I 
will  heal  your  backslidings.  Behold,  we  come  unto  Thee;  for  Thou  art 
the  Lord  our  God.'— Jer.  iii.  21,  22. 

We  have  here  a  brief  dramatic  dialogue.  First  is 
heard  a  voice  from  the  bare  heights,  the  sobs  and  cries 
of  penitence,  produced  by  the  prophet's  earnest  remon- 
strance. The  penitent  soul  is  absorbed  in  the  thought 
of  its  own  evil.  Its  sin  stands  clear  before  it.  Israel 
sees  its  sin  in  its  two  forms.  '  They  have  perverted 
their  way, '  or  have  led  a  wrong  outward  life  of  action, 
and  the  reason  is  that  '  they  have  forgotten  God, '  or 


vs.  21,22]       A  PENITENT  AND  GOD  255 

have  been  guilty  of  inward  alienation  and  departure 
from  Him.  Here  is  the  consciousness  of  sin  in  its  essen- 
tial character,  and  that  produces  godly  sorrow.  The  dis- 
tinction between  mere  remorse  and  repentance  is  here 
already,  in  the  '  weeping  and  supplication.' 

I.  So  we  have  here  a  consciousness  of  sin  in  its  true 
nature,  as  embracing  both  deeds  and  heart,  as  originat- 
ing in  departure  from  God,  and  manifested  in  perverted 
conduct. 

Further,  we  have  here  sorrow.  There  may  be  con- 
sciousness of  sin  in  its  true  nature  without  any  sorrow 
of  heart.  It  is  fatal  when  a  man  looks  upon  his  evil, 
gets  a  more  or  less  clear  sight  of  it,  and  is  not  sorry  and 
penitent.  It  is  conceivable  that  there  should  be  per- 
fect knowledge  of  sin  and  perfect  insensibility  in  regard 
to  it. 

A  sinful  man's  true  mood  should  be  sorrow — not  fling- 
ing the  blame  on  others,  or  on  fate,  or  circumstances; 
not  regarding  his  sin  as  misfortune  or  as  inevitable  or  as 
disease. 

Conscience  is  meant  to  produce  that  consciousness  and 
that  sorrow :  but  conscience  may  be  dulled  or  silenced. 
It  cannot  be  anyhow  induced  to  call  evil  good,  but  it 
may  be  mistaken  in  what  is  evil.  The  gnomon  is  true, 
but  a  veil  of  cloud  may  be  drawn  over  the  sky. 

Further,  we  have  here  supplication.  These  two  form- 
er may  both  be  experienced,  without  this  third.  There 
may  be  consciousness  of  sin  and  sorrow  which  lead  to  no 
blessing.  '  My  bones  waxed  old  through  my  roaring. ' 
Sorrow  after  a  godly  sort  may  be  hindered  by  false  no- 
tions of  God's  great  love,  or  by  false  notions  of  what  a 
man  ought  to  do  when  he  finds  he  has  gone  wrong.  It 
may  be  hindered  by  cleaving,  subtle  love  of  sin,  or  by 


256  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH    [ch.  hi. 

self -trust.  But  where  all  these  have  been  overcome  there 
is  true  repentance. 

II.  The  loving  divine  answer. 

Another  ear  than  the  prophet's  has  heard  the  plaint 
from  the  bare  heights.  Many  a  frenzied  shriek  had 
gone  up  from  these  shrines  of  idolatrous  worship,  and  as 
with  Baal's  prophets,  it  had  brought  no  answer,  nor  had 
there  been  any  that  regarded.  But  this  weeping  reaches 
the  ear  that  is  never  closed.  Contrast  with  verse  23: 
'  Truly  in  vain  is  the  help  that  is  looked  for  from  the 
hills,  the  shouting  (of  idol-worshippers)  on  the  moun- 
tains. ' 

The  instantaneousness  of  God's  answer  is  very  beauti- 
ful. It  is  like  the  action  of  the  father  in  the  parable  of 
the  prodigal  son,  who  saw  his  repentant  boy  afar  off  and 
ran  and  kissed  him. 

There  seems  to  be,  in  both  the  invitation  to  return  and 
in  the  promise  to  hear  the  backslidings,  a  quotation  from 
Hosea  xiv.  (1-4).  We  see  here  how  God  meets  the  peni- 
tent with  a  love  that  recognises  all  his  sin  and  yet  is  love. 
It  is  not  rebuke  or  reproach  that  lies  in  that  designation, 
'  backsliding  children. '  It  is  tenderest  mercy  that  lets 
us  see  that  He  knows  exactly  what  we  are,  and  yet 
promises  His  love  and  forgiveness.  He  loves  us  sinners 
with  a  love  that  beckons  us  back  to  Himself,  with  a  love 
that  promises  healing.  The  truth  which  should  be  taken 
into  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  man  conscious  of  sin  is 
God's  knowledge  of  it  all  already  and  yet  His  undimin- 
ished love,  God's  welcome  of  him  back,  God's  ready  par- 
don. All  this  is  true  for  the  world  in  Christ,  and  is  true 
for  every  individual  soul. 

The  answer  and  the  invitation  here  are  immediate. 

There  is  often  a  long  period  of  painful  struggle.     It 


vs.  21, 22]  A  QUESTION  FOR  BEGINNING      257 

looks  as  if  the  answer  were  not  immediate.  But  that  is 
because  we  do  not  listen  to  it. 

III.  The  happy  response  of  the  returning  soul. 

That  too  is  immediate.  The  soul  believes  God's  prom- 
ises. It  recognises  God's  claim.  It  returns  to  Him. 
We  are  attracted  by  His  grace.  The  sunflower  turns  to 
the  sun.  The  penitent  is  not  driven  only,  but  drawn — 
God's  own  loving  self -revelation  in  Christ  is  His  true 
power.  '  I,  if  I  am  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men  unto 
Me.' 

The  consciousness  of  sin  remains  and  is  even  deepened 
(subsequent  verses),  and  yet  is  different.  A  light  of 
hope  is  in  it.  The  very  sense  of  sin  brings  us  to  Him,  to 
hide  our  faces  on  His  heart  like  a  child  in  its  mother's 
lap. 

This  response  of  the  soul  may  be  instantaneous.  If  it 
is  not  immediate,  it  too  probably  will  never  be  at  all. 

A  QUESTION   FOR  THE   BEGINNING 

'What  will  ye  do  in  the  end?' — Jer.  v.  31. 

I  FIND  that  I  preached  to  the  young  from  this  text  just 
thirty  years  since — nearly  a  generation  ago.  How  few 
of  my  then  congregation  are  here  to-night!  how  changed 
they  and  I  are!  and  how  much  nearer  the  close  we  have 
drifted!  How  many  of  the  young  men  and  women  of 
that  evening  have  gone  to  meet  the  end,  and  how  many 
of  them  have  wrecked  their  lives  because  they  would  not 
face  and  answer  this  question! 

Ah,  dear  young  friends,  if  I  could  bring  some  of  the 
living  and  some  of  the  dead,  and  set  them  to  witness 
here  instead  of  me,  they  would  burn  in  on  you,  as  my 
poor  words  never  can  do,  the  insanity  of  living  without 

VOL.11.  R. 


258  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH      [ch.  v. 

a  satisfactory  and  sufficient  reply  to  the  question  of  my 
text,  '  What  will  ye  do  in  the  end?  ' 

In  its  original  application  these  words  referred  to  a 
condition  of  religious  and  moral  corruption  in  which  a 
whole  nation  was  involved.  The  men  that  should  have 
spoken  for  God  were  '  prophesying  lies. '  The  priests 
connived  at  profitable  falsehoods  because  by  these  their 
rule  was  confirmed.  And  the  deluded  populace,  as  is 
always  the  case,  preferred  smooth  falsehoods  to  stern 
truths.  So  the  prophet  turns  round  indignantly,  and 
asks  what  can  be  the  end  of  such  a  welter  and  carnival 
of  vice  and  immorality,  and  beseeches  his  contempora- 
ries to  mend  their  ways  by  bethinking  themselves  of 
what  their  course  led  to. 

But  we  may  dismiss  the  immediate  application  of  the 
words  for  the  sake  of  looking  at  the  general  principle 
which  underlies  them.  It  is  a  very  familiar  and  well- 
worn  one.  It  is  simply  this,  that  a  large  part  of  the 
wise  conduct  of  life  depends  on  grave  consideration 
of  consequences.  It  is  a  sharp-pointed  question,  that 
pricks  many  a  bubble,  and  brings  much  wisdom  down 
into  the  category  of  folly.  There  would  be  less  misery 
in  the  world,  and  fewer  fair  young  lives  cast  away  upon 
grim  rocks,  if  the  question  of  my  text  were  oftener 
asked  and  answered. 

I.  I  note,  first,  that  here  is  a  question  which  every 
wise  man  will  ask  himself. 

I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the  consideration  of  conse- 
quences is  the  highest  guide,  nor  that  it  is  always  a  suffi- 
cient one ;  nor  that  it  is,  by  any  means,  in  every  case, 
an  easily  applied  one.  For  we  can  all  conceive  of  cir- 
cumstances in  which  it  is  the  plainest  duty  to  take  a  cer- 
tain course  of  action,  knowing  that,  as  far  as  this  life  is 


V.  31]     A  QUESTION  FOR  BEGINNING        259 

concerned,  it  will  bring  down  disaster  and  ruin.  Do 
right!  and  face  any  results  therefrom.  He  who  is 
always  forecasting  possible  issues  has  a  very  leaden  rule 
of  conduct,  and  will  be  so  afraid  of  results  that  he  will 
not  dare  to  move ;  and  his  creeping  prudence  will  often 
turn  out  to  be  the  truest  imprudence. 

But  whilst  all  that  is  true,  and  many  deductions  must 
be  made  from  the  principle  which  I  have  laid  down,  that 
the  consideration  of  circumstances  is  a  good  guide  in  life, 
yet  there  are  regions  in  which  the  question  comes  home 
with  direct  and  illuminating  force.  Let  me  just  illus- 
trate one  or  two  of  these. 

Take  the  lower  application  of  the  question  to  nearer 
ends  in  life.  Now  this  awful  life  that  we  live  is  so 
strangely  concatenated  of  causes  and  effects,  and  each 
little  deed  drags  after  it  such  a  train  of  eternal  and  ever- 
widening  consequences,  that  a  man  must  be  an  idiot  if 
he  never  looks  an  inch  beyond  his  nose  to  see  the  bear- 
ing of  his  actions.  I  believe  that,  in  the  long-run,  and 
in  the  general,  condition  is  the  result  of  character  and  of 
conduct ;  and  that,  whatsoever  deductions  may  be  neces- 
sary, yet,  speaking  generally,  and  for  the  most  part, 
men  are  the  architects  of  their  own  condition,  and  that 
they  make  the  houses  that  they  dwell  in  to  fit  the  con- 
volutions of  the  body  that  dwells  within  them.  And, 
that  being  so,  it  being  certain  that  '  whatsoever  a  man 
soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap, '  and  that  no  deed,  be  it 
ever  so  small,  be  it  ever  so  evanescent,  be  it  ever  so  en- 
tirely confined  within  our  own  inward  nature,  and  never 
travelling  out  into  visibility  in  what  men  call  actions — 
that  every  one  of  such  produces  an  eternal,  though  it 
may  be  an  all  but  imperceptible  effect,  upon  ourselves ; 
oh,  surely  there  can  be  nothing  more  ridiculous  than  that 


260  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH     :[ch.  v. 

a  man  should  refrain  from  forecasting  the  issue  of  his  con- 
duct, and  saying  to  himself, '  What  am  I  to  do  in  the  end? ' 

If  you  would  only  do  that  in  regard  to  hosts  of  things 
in  your  daily  life  you  could  not  be  the  men  and  women 
that  you  are.  If  the  lazy  student  would  only  bring 
clearly  before  his  mind  the  examination-room,  and  the 
unanswerable  paper,  and  the  bitter  mortification  when 
the  pass-list  comes  out  and  his  name  is  not  there,  he 
would  not  trifle  and  dawdle  and  seek  all  manner  of  di- 
versions as  he  does,  but  he  would  bind  himself  to  his 
desk  and  his  task.  If  the  young  man  who  begins  to 
tamper  with  purity,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  temptations 
of  a  great  city  to  gratify  the  lust  of  the  eye  and  the  lust 
of  the  flesh,  because  he  is  away  from  the  shelter  of  his 
father's  house,  and  the  rebuke  of  his  mother's  purity, 
could  see,  as  the  older  of  us  have  seen,  men  with  their 
bones  full  of  the  iniquity  of  their  youth,  or  drifted  away 
from  the  city  to  die,  down  in  the  country  like  a  rat  in  a 
hole,  do  you  think  the  temptations  of  the  streets  and  low 
places  of  amusement  would  not  be  stripped  of  their  fas- 
cination? If  the  man  beginning  to  drink  were  to  say  to 
himself,  '  What  am  I  to  do  in  the  end?  '  when  the  crav- 
ing becomes  physical,  and  volition  is  suspended,  and 
anj'-thing  is  sacrificed  in  order  to  still  the  domineering 
devil  within,  do  you  think  he  would  begin?  I  do  not 
believe  that  all  sin  comes  from  ignorance,  but  sure  I  am 
that  if  the  sinful  man  saw  what  the  end  is  he  would,  in 
nine  cases  out  of  ten,  be  held  back.  '  What  will  ye  do 
in  the  end?  '  Use  that  question,  dear  friends,  as  the 
Ithuriel  spear  which  will  touch  the  squatting  tempter  at 
your  ear,  and  there  will  start  up,  in  its  own  shape,  the 
fiend. 

But  the  main  application  that  I  would  ask  you  to  make 


V.  31]     A  QUESTION  FOR  BEGINNING        261 

of  the  words  of  my  text  is  in  reference  to  the  final  end, 
the  passing  from  life.  Death,  the  end,  is  likewise 
Death,  the  beginning.  If  it  were  an  absolute  end,  as 
coarse  infidelity  pretends  to  believe  it  is,  then,  of  course, 
such  a  question  as  my  text  would  have  no  kind  of  rele- 
vance. *  What  will  ye  do  in  the  end?  '  *  Nothing!  for  I 
shall  be  nothing.  I  shall  just  go  back  to  the  nonentity 
that  I  was.  I  do  not  need  to  trouble  myself. '  Ah,  but 
Janus  has  two  faces,  one  turned  to  the  present  and  one 
to  the  future.  His  temple  has  two  gates,  one  which 
admits  from  this  lower  level,  and  one,  at  the  back, 
which  launches  us  out  on  to  the  higher  level.  The  end 
is  a  beginning,  and  the  beginning  is  retribution.  The 
end  of  sowing  is  the  beginning  of  harvest.  The  man  fin-' 
ishes  his  work  and  commences  to  live  on  his  wages.  The 
brewing  is  over,  and  the  drinking  of  the  brewst  com- 
mences. 

And  so,  brother,  '  What  will  ye  do  in  the  end — which 
is  not  an  end,  but  which  is  a  beginning?  '  Surely  every 
wise  man  will  take  that  question  into  consideration. 
Surely,  if  it  be  true  that  we  all  of  us  are  silently  drifting 
to  that  one  little  gateway  through  which  we  have  to 
pass  one  by  one,  and  then  find  ourselves  in  a  region  all 
full  of  consequences  of  the  present,  he  has  a  good  claim 
to  be  counted  a  prince  of  fools  who  '  jumps  the  life  to 
come,'  and,  in  all  his  calculations  of  consequences, 
which  he  applies  wisely  and  prudently  to  the  trifles  of 
the  present,  forgets  to  ask  himself,  '  And,  after  all  that 
is  done,  what  shall  I  do  then? '  You  remember  the 
question  in  the  old  ballad : 

'"What  good  came  of  it  at  last?' 

'Nay,  that  I  cannot  tell,'  quoth  he; 
But  'twas  a  famous  victory.'  " 


262  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH     [ch.  v. 

Ay,  but  what  came  of  it  at  the  last?  Oh  brother, 
that  one  question,  pushed  to  its  issues,  condemns  the 
wisdom  of  this  world  as  folly,  and  pulverises  into  noth- 
ingness millions  of  active  lives  and  successful  schemes. 
What  then?  What  then?  '  I  have  much  goods  laid  up 
for  many  years.'  Well  and  good,  what  then?  '  I  will 
say  to  my  soul,  Take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  be 
merry.'  Yes,  what  then?  '  This  night  thy  soul  shall  be 
required  of  thee.'  He  never  thought  of  that!  And  so 
his  epitaph  was  '  Thou  fool! ' 

II.  So,  secondly,  mark,  here  is  a  question  which  a 
great  many  of  us  never  think  about. 

I  do  not  mean,  now,  so  much  in  reference  to  the  near- 
er ends  compassed  in  this  life,  though  even  in  regard  to 
them  it  is  only  too  true ;  I  mean  rather  in  regard  to 
that  great  and  solemn  issue  to  which  we  are  all  tending. 
But  in  regard  of  both,  it  seems  to  me  one  of  the  strang- 
est things  in  all  the  world  that  men  should  be  content  so 
commonly  to  be  ignorant  of  what  they  perfectly  well 
know,  and  never  to  give  attention  to  that  of  which, 
should  they  bethink  themselves,  they  are  absolutely  cer- 
tain. 

*  What  will  ye  do  in  the  end? '  Why!  half  of  us  put 
away  that  question  with  the  thought  in  our  minds,  if 
not  expressed,  at  least  most  operative,  '  There  is  not 
going  to  be  any  end;  and  it  is  always  going  to  be  just 
like  what  it  is  to-day. '  Did  you  ever  think  that  there 
is  no  good  ground  for  being  sure  that  the  sun  will  rise 
to-morrow;  that  it  rose  for  the  first  time  once;  that 
there  will  come  a  day  when  it  will  rise  for  the  last  time? 
The  uniformity  of  Nature  may  be  a  postulate,  but  you 
cannot  find  any  logical  basis  for  it.  Or,  to  come  down 
from  heights  of  that  sort,  have  you  ever  laid  to  heart, 


V.  31]     A  QUESTION  FOR  BEGINNING        263 

brother,  that  the  only  unchangeable  thing  in  this  world 
is  change,  and  the  only  thing  certain,  that  there  is  no 
continuance  of  anything ;  and  that,  therefore,  you  and  I 
are  bound,  if  we  are  wise,  to  look  that  fact  in  the  face, 
and  not  to  allow  ourselves  to  be  befooled  by  the  difficulty 
of  imagining  that  things  will  ever  be  different  from 
what  they  are?  Oh!  many  of  us — I  was  going  to  say 
most  of  men,  I  do  not  know  that  it  would  be  an  exag- 
geration— are  like  the  careless  inhabitants  of  some  of 
those  sunny,  volcanic  isles  in  the  Eastern  Ocean,  where 
Nature  is  prodigally  luxuriant  and  all  things  are  fair, 
but  every  fifty  years  or  so  there  comes  a  roar  and  the 
island  shakes,  and  half  of  it,  perhaps,  is  overwhelmed, 
and  the  lava  flows  down  and  destroys  gleaming  houses 
and  smiling  fields,  and  heaven  is  darkened  with  ashes, 
and  then  everything  goes  on  as  before,  and  people  live  as 
if  it  was  never  going  to  happen  again,  though  every 
morning,  when  they  go  out,  they  see  the  cone  towering 
above  their  houses,  and  the  thin  column  of  smoke,  pale 
against  the  blue  sky. 

It  is  not  altogether  sinful  or  bad  that  we  should  live, 
to  some  extent,  under  the  illusion  of  a  fixity  and  a  per- 
petuity which  has  no  real  existence,  for  it  helps  to  con- 
centrate effort  and  to  consolidate  habit,  and  to  make  life 
possible.  But  for  men  to  live,  as  so  many  of  us  do, 
never  thinking  of  what  is  more  certain  than  anything 
else  about  us,  that  we  shall  slide  out  of  this  world,  and 
find  ourselves  in  another,  is  surely  not  the  part  of  wisdom. 

Another  reason  why  so  many  of  us  shirk  this  question 
is  the  lamentable  want  of  the  habit  of  living  by  principle 
and  reflection.  Most  men  never  see  their  life  steadily, 
and  see  it  whole.  They  live  from  hand  to  mouth,  they 
are  driven  this  way  and  that  way ;  they  adapt  means  to 


264  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH      [ch.  v. 

ends  in  regard  to  business  or  the  like,  but  in  the  forma- 
tion of  their  character,  and  in  the  moulding  of  their 
whole  being,  crowds  of  them  live  a  purely  mechanical, 
instinctive,  unreflective  life.  There  is  nothing  more  de- 
plorable than  the  small  extent  to  which  reflection  and 
volition  really  shape  the  lives  of  the  bulk  of  mankind. 
Most  of  us  take  our  cue  from  our  circumstances,  letting 
them  dominate  us.  They  tell  us  that  in  Nature  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  protective  mimicry,  as  it  is  called — ani- 
mals having  the  power — some  of  them  to  a  much  larger 
extent  than  others — of  changing  their  hues  in  order  to 
match  the  gravel  of  the  stream  in  which  they  swim  or 
the  leaves  of  the  trees  on  which  they  feed.  That  is  like 
what  a  great  many  of  us  do.  Put  us  into  a  place  where 
certain  forms  of  frivolity  or  vice  are  common,  and  we  go 
in  for  them.  Take  us  away  from  these  and  we  change 
our  hue  to  something  a  little  whiter.  But  all  through 
we  never  know  what  it  is  to  put  forth  a  good  solid  force 
of  resistance  and  to  say,  '  No!  I  will  not! '  or,  what  is 
sometimes  quite  as  hard  to  say,  '  Yes!  though, 'as  Luther 
said  in  his  strong  way,  '  there  were  as  many  devils  in 
Worms  as  there  are  tiles  on  the  housetops,  I  will! '  If 
people  would  live  more  by  reflection  and  by  the  power  of 
a  resisting  will,  this  question  of  my  text  would  come 
oftener  to  them. 

And  there  is  another  cause  that  I  must  touch  on  for 
one  moment,  why  so  many  people  neglect  this  question, 
and  that  is  because  they  are  uneasily  conscious  that  they 
durst  not  face  it.  I  know  of  no  stranger  power  than 
that  by  which  men  can  ignore  unwelcome  questions;  and 
I  know  of  nothing  more  tragical  than  the  fact  that  they 
choose  to  exercise  the  power.  What  would  you  think  of 
a  man  who  never  took  stock  because  he  knew  that  he 


V.  31]     A  QUESTION  FOR  BEGINNING     265 

was  insolventj  and  yet  did  not  want  to  know  it?  And 
what  do  you  think  of  yourselves  if,  knowing  that  the 
thought  of  passing  into  that  solemn  eternity  is  anything 
but  a  cheering  one,  and  that  you  have  to  pass  thither, 
you  never  turn  your  head  to  look  at  it?  Ah,  brother,  if 
it  be  true  that  this  question  of  my  text  is  unpleasant  to 
you  to  hear  put,  be  sure  that  that  is  the  strongest  reason 
why  you  should  put  it. 

III.  Thirdly,  here  is  a  question  especially  directed  to 
you  young  folk. 

It  is  so  because  you  are  specially  tempted  to  forget  it. 
It  may  seem  as  if  there  were  no  people  in  the  world  that 
had  less  need  to  be  appealed  to,  as  I  have  been  appealing 
to  you,  by  motives  drawn  from  the  end  of  life,  than  you 
who  are  only  standing  at  its  beginning.  But  it  is  not 
so.  An  old  rabbi  was  once  asked  by  his  pupil  when  he 
should  fulfil  a  certain  precept  of  the  law,  and  the  answer 
was,  '  The  day  before  you  die. '  '  But, '  said  the  disciple, 
'  I  may  die  to-morrow. '  '  Then, '  said  the  master,  '  do  it 
to-day. '  And  so  I  say  to  you,  do  not  make  sure  that  the 
beginning  at  which  you  stand  is  separated  by  a  long 
tract  of  years  from  the  end  to  which  you  go.  It  may  be, 
but  it  may  not  be.  I  know  that  arguments  pleading 
with  men  to  be  Christians,  and  drawn  from  the  consider- 
ation of  a  future  life,  are  not  fashionable  nowadays,  but 
I  am  persuaded  that  that  preaching  of  the  Gospel  is 
seriously  defective,  and  will  be  lamentably  ineffective, 
which  ignores  this  altogether.  And,  therefore,  dear 
friends,  I  say  to  you  that,  although  in  all  human  proba- 
bility a  stretch  of  years  may  lie  between  you  and  the 
end  of  life,  the  question  of  my  text  is  one  specially 
adapted  to  you. 

And  it  is  so  because,  with  your  buoyancy,  with  your 


266  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH      [ch.  v. 

necessarily  limited  experience,  with  the  small  accumula- 
tion of  results  that  you  have  already  in  your  possession, 
and  with  the  tendencies  of  your  age  to  live  rather  by 
impulse  than  by  reflection,  you  are  specially  tempted  to 
forget  the  solemn  significance  of  this  interrogation. 
And  it  is  a  question  especially  for  you,  because  you  have 
special  advantages  in  the  matter  of  putting  it.  We  old- 
er people  are  all  fixed  and  fossils,  as  you  are  very  fond  of 
telling  us.  The  iron  has  cooled  and  gone  into  rigid 
shapes  with  us.  It  is  all  fluent  with  you.  You  may 
become  pretty  nearly  what  you  like.  I  do  not  mean  in 
regard  to  circumstances :  other  considerations  come  in  to 
determine  these ;  but  circumstances  are  second,  character 
is  first ;  and  I  do  say,  in  regard  to  character,  you  young 
folk  have  all  but  infinite  possibilities  before  you ;  and,  I 
repeat,  may  become  almost  anything  that  you  set  your- 
selves to  be.  You  have  no  long,  weary  trail  of  failures 
behind  you,  depressing  and  seeming  to  bring  an  entail 
of  like  failure  with  them  for  the  future.  You  have  not 
yet  acquired  habits — those  awful  things  that  may  be  our 
worst  foes  or  our  best  friends — you  have  not  yet  acquired 
habits  that  almost  smother  the  power  of  reform  and 
change.  You  have,  perhaps,  years  before  you  in  which 
you  may  practise  the  lessons  of  wisdom  and  self-restraint 
which  this  question  fairly  fronted  would  bring.  And  so 
I  lay  it  on  your  hearts,  dear  young  friends.  I  have  lit- 
tle hope  of  the  old  people.  I  do  not  despair  of  any,  God 
forbid!  but  the  fact  remains  that  the  most  of  the  men 
who  have  done  anything  for  God  and  the  world  worth 
doing  have  been  under  the  influence  of  Christian  princi- 
ple in  their  early  days.  And  from  fifteen  to  one  or  two 
and  twenty  is  the  period  in  which  you  get  the  set  which, 
in  all  likelihood,  you  will  retain  through  eternity.     So, 


V.  31]    A  QUESTION  FOR  BEGINNING       267 

*  What  will  ye  do  in  the  end?  '  Answer  the  question 
whilst  yet  it  is  possible  to  answer  it,  with  a  stretch  of 
years  before  you  in  which  you  may  work  out  the  conclu- 
sions to  which  the  answer  brings. 

IV,  And  that  leads  me  to  say,  last  of  all,  and  but  a 
word,  that  here  is  a  question  which  Jesus  Christ  alone 
enables  a  man  to  answer  with  calm  confidence. 

As  I  have  said,  the  end  is  a  beginning ;  the  passage 
from  life  is  the  entrance  on  a  progressive  and  eternal 
state  of  retribution.  And  Jesus  Christ  tells  us  two  other 
things.  He  tells  us  that  that  state  has  two  parts ;  that 
in  one  there  is  union  with  Him,  life,  blessedness  for 
ever;  and  that  in  the  other  there  is  darkness,  separation 
from  Him,  death,  and  misery.  These  are  the  facts,  as 
revealed  by  the  incarnate  Word  of  God,  on  which  an- 
swers to  this  question  must  be  shaped. 

^  What  will  ye  do  in  the  end?  '  If  I  am  trusting  to 
Him ;  if  I  have  brought  my  poor,  weak  nature  and  sin- 
ful soul  to  Him,  and  cast  them  upon  His  merciful  sacri- 
fice and  mighty  intercession  and  life-giving  Spirit,  then 
I  can  say :  '  As  for  me,  I  shall  behold  Thy  face  in  right- 
eousness; I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I  awake  with  Thy 
likeness.'  Ay,  and  what  about  those  who  do  not  take 
Him  for  their  Prince  and  their  Saviour?  '  What  will  ye 
do  in  the  end?  '  When  life's  illusions  are  over,  when  all 
its  bubbles  are  burst,  when  conscience  awakes,  and  when 
you  stand  to  give  an  account  of  yourself  to  God,  '  What 
will  ye  do  in  the  end  '  which  is  a  beginning?  '  Can  thy 
heart  endure  and  thy  hand  be  strong  in  the  day  that  I 
shall  deal  with  thee? '  Oh  brother,  do  not  turn  away 
from  that  Christ  who  is  the  Alpha  and  the  Omega,  the 
beginning  and  the  ending!  If  you  will  cleave  to  Him, 
then  you  may  let  the  years  and  weeks  slip  away  without 


268  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH      [ch.  x. 

regret ;  and  whether  the  close  be  far  off  or  near,  death 
will  be  robbed  of  all  its  terrors,  and  the  future  so  filled 
with  blessedness,  that  of  you  the  wise  man's  paradox 
will  be  true :  '  Better  is  the  end  of  a  thing  than  the  be- 
ginning, and  the  day  of  death  than  the  day  of  birth. ' 


POSSESSING  AND  POSSESSED 

'  The  portion  of  Jacob  is  not  like  them :  for  He  is  the  former  of  all  things : 
and  Israel  is  the  tribe  of  His  inheritance.  The  Lord  of  Hosts  is  His  name.' 
— Jer.  X.  16,  R.V. 

Here  we  have  set  forth  a  reciprocal  possession.  We 
possess  God,  He  possesses  us.  We  are  His  inheritance, 
He  is  our  portion.     I  am  His ;  He  is  mine. 

This  mutual  ownership  is  the  very  living  centre  of  all 
religion.  Without  it  there  is  no  relation  of  any  depth 
between  God  and  us.  How  much  profounder  such  a 
conception  is  than  the  shallow  notions  about  religion 
which  so  many  men  have!  It  is  not  a  round  of  observ- 
ance; not  a  painful  effort  at  obedience,  not  a  dim  rever- 
ence for  some  vague  supernatural,  not  a  far-off  bowing 
before  Omnipotence,  not  the  mere  acceptance  of  a  creed, 
but  a  life  in  which  God  and  the  soul  blend  in  the  intima- 
cies of  mutual  possession. 

I.  The  mutual  possession. 

God  is  our  portion. 

That  thought  presupposes  the  possibility  of  our  pos- 
sessing God.  It  presupposes  the  fact  that  He  has  given 
Himself  to  us,  and  the  answering  fact  that  we  have 
taken  Him  for  ours. 

We  are  God's  inheritance. 

We  give  ourselves  to  Him — we  do  so  where  we  appre- 
hend that  He  has  given  Himself  to  us ;  it  is  His  giving 
love  that  moves  men  to  yield  themselves  to  God.     He 


V.  16]     POSSESSING  AND  POSSESSED        269 

takes  us  for  His.  What  a  wonderful  thought  that  He 
delights  in  possessing  us!  The  all-sufficiency  of  our 
portion  is  guaranteed  because  He  is  '  the  former  of  all 
things. '  The  safety  of  His  inheritance  is  secured  because 
'  the  Lord  of  Hosts  is  His  name. '  And  that  name  accen- 
tuates the  wonder  that  He  to  whom  all  the  ordered  ar- 
mies of  the  universe  submit  and  belong  should  still  take 
us  for  His  inheritance. 

Mark  the  contrast  of  this  true  possession  with  the  false 
and  merely  external  possessions  of  the  world.  Those 
outward  things  which  a  man  has  stand  in  no  real  rela- 
tion with  him.  They  fade  and  fleet  away,  or  have  to  be 
left,  and,  even  while  they  last,  are  not  his  in  any  real 
sense.  Only  what  has  indissolubly  entered  into,  and 
become  one  with,  our  very  selves  is  truly  ours. 

Our  possession  of  God  suggests  a  view  of  our  blessed- 
ness and  our  obligation.  It  secures  blessedness — for  we 
have  in  Him  an  all-sufficient  object  and  a  treasure  for 
all  our  nature.  It  imposes  the  obligation  to  let  our 
whole  nature  feed  upon,  and  be  filled  by,  Him,  to  see 
that  the  temple  where  He  dwells  is  clean,  and  not  to 
fling  away  our  treasure. 

His  possession  of  us  suggests  a  corresponding  view  of 
our  blessedness  and  our  obligation. 

We  are  His — as  slaves  are  their  owners'  property.  So 
we  are  bound  to  submission  of  will.  To  be  owned  by 
God  is  an  honour.  The  slave's  goods  and  chattels  be- 
long to  the  master. 

His  possession  of  us  binds  us  to  consecrate  ourselves, 
and  so  to  glorify  Him  in  '  body  and  spirit  which  are  His. ' 

It  ensures  our  safety.  How  constantly  this  calming 
thought  is  dwelt  on  in  Scripture — that  they  who  belong 
to  Him  need  fear  nothing.     '  Fear  not,  I  have  called 


270  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH     [ch.  x. 

thee  by  thy  name,  thou  art  Mine, '  God  does  not  hold 
His  possessions  with  so  slack  a  grasp  as  to  lose  them  or 
to  suffer  them  to  be  wrenched  away.  A  psalmist  rose 
to  the  hope  of  immortality  by  meditating  on  what  was 
involved  in  his  being  God's  possession  here  and  now. 
He  was  sure  that  even  Death's  bony  fingers  could  not 
keep  their  hold  on  him,  and  so  he  sang,  '  Thou  wilt  not 
suffer  Thine  Holy  One  to  see  corruption. '  The  seal  on 
the  foundation  of  God  which  guarantees  its  standing 
sure  is,  '  The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  His. '  '  They 
shall  be  Mine  in  the  day  that  I  do  make,  even  a  pecuHar 
treasure, '  is  His  own  assurance,  on  which  resting,  a  trem- 
bling soul  may  '  have  boldness  in  the  day  of  judgment. ' 

II.  The  human  response  by  which  God  becomes  ours 
and  we  His. 

That  response  is  first  the  act  of  faith,  which  is  an  act 
of  both  reason  and  will,  and  then  the  act  of  love  and 
self-surrender  which  follows  faith,  and  then  the  contin- 
uous acts  of  communion  and  consecration. 

All  must  commence  with  recognition  of  His  free  gift 
of  Himself  to  us  in  Christ.  We  come  empty-handed. 
That  gift  recognised  and  accepted  moves  us  to  give 
ourselves  to  Him.  When  we  give  ourselves  to  Him  we 
find  that  we  possess  Him. 

Further,  there  must  be  continuous  communion.  This 
mutual  possession  depends  on  our  occupation  of  mind 
and  heart  with  Him.  We  possess  Him  and  are  pos- 
sessed by  Him,  when  our  wills  are  kept  in  harmony 
with,  and  submission  to.  Him,  when  our  thoughts  are 
occupied  with  Him  and  His  truth,  when  our  affections 
rest  in  Him,  when  our  desires  go  out  to  Him,  when  our 
hopes  are  centred  in  Him,  when  our  practical  life  is  de- 
voted to  Him. 


V.  16]     POSSESSING  AND  POSSESSED        271 

III.  The  blessedness  of  this  mutual  possession. 

To  possess  God  is  to  have  an  all-sufficient  object  for  all 
our  nature.  He  who  has  God  for  his  very  own  has  the 
fountain  of  life  in  himself,  has  the  spring  of  living 
water,  as  it  were,  in  his  own  courtyard,  and  needs  not 
to  go  elsewhere  to  draw.  He  need  fear  no  loss,  for  his 
wealth  is  so  engrained  in  the  very  substance  of  his  being 
that  nothing  can  rob  him  of  it  but  himself,  and  that 
whilst  he  lasts  it  will  last  with,  because  in,  him. 

How  marvellous  that  into  the  narrow  room  of  one 
poor  soul  He  should  come  whom  the  heaven  of  heavens 
cannot  contain!  Solomon  said,  *  How  much  less  this 
house  which  I  have  built, ' — well  may  we  say  the  same 
of  our  little  hearts.  But  He  can  compress  Himself  into 
that  small  compass  and  expand  His  abode  by  dwelling 
in  it. 

Nor  is  the  blessedness  of  being  possessed  by  Him  less 
than  the  blessedness  of  possessing  Him.  For  so  long  as 
we  own  ourselves  we  are  burdens  to  ourselves,  and  we 
only  own  ourselves  truly  when  we  give  ourselves  away 
utterly.  Earthly  love,  with  its  blessed  mysteries  of  mu- 
tual possession,  teaches  us  that.  But  all  its  depth  and 
joy  are  as  nothing  when  set  beside  the  liberty,  the  glad 
peace,  the  assured  possession  of  our  enriched  selves, 
which  are  ours  when  we  give  oursleves  wholly  to  God, 
and  so  for  the  first  time  are  truly  lords  of  ourselves,  and 
find  ourselves  by  losing  ourselves  in  Him. 

Nor  need  we  fear  to  say  that  God,  too,  delights  in  that 
mutual  possession,  for  the  very  essence  of  love  is  the  de- 
sire to  impart  itself,  and  He  is  love  supreme  and  perfect. 
Therefore  is  He  glad  when  we  let  Him  give  Himself  to 
us,  and  moved  by  '  the  mercies  of  God,  yield  ourselves 
to  Him  a  sacrifice  of  a  sweet  smell,  acceptable  to  God. ' 


CALMS  AND  CRISES 

'If  thou  hast  run  with  the  footmen,  and  they  have  wearied  thee,  then 
how  canst  thou  contend  with  horses?  and  though  in  a  land  of  peace  thou 
art  secure,  yet  how  wilt  thou  do  in  the  pride  of  Jordan?' — Jer.  xii.  5,  R.V. 

The  prophet  has  been  complaining  of  his  persecutors. 
The  divine  answer  is  here,  reproving  his  impatience,  and 
giving  him  to  understand  that  harder  trials  are  in  store 
for  him. 

Both  clauses  mean  substantially  the  same  thing,  and 
are  of  a  parabolic  nature.  The  one  adduces  the  meta- 
phor of  a  race:  '  Footmen  have  beaten  you,  have  they? 
Then  how  will  you  run  with  cavalry?  '  The  other  is 
more  clear  in  the  Revised  Version  rendering :  '  Though 
in  a  land  of  peace  you  are  secure,  what  will  you  do  in 
Jordan  when  it  swells?  '  The  '  swelling  of  Jordan  '  is  a 
figure  for  extreme  danger. 

The  questions  may  be  taken  as  referring  to  our  own 
lives  Note  bow  the  one  refers  more  to  strength  for  du- 
ties, the  other  to  peace  and  safety  in  dangers.  They 
both  recognise  that  life  has  great  alternations  as  to  the 
magnitude  of  its  tasks  and  trials,  and  they  call  on  expe- 
rience to  answer  the  question  whether  we  are  ready  for 
times  of  stress  and  peril, 

I.  Think  of  what  may  come  to  us. 

We  all  have  had  the  experience  of  how  in  our  lives 
there  are  long  stretches  of  uneventful  days,  and  then, 
generally  without  warning,  some  crisis  is  sprung  on  us, 
which  demands  quite  a  different  order  of  qualities  to 
cope  with  it.  Our  typhoons  generally  come  without  any 
warning  from  a  falling  barometer. 

We  may  at  any  moment  be  confronted  with  some  hard 
duty  which  will  task  our  utmost  energy. 

We  may  at  any  moment  be  plunged  in  some  great  ca- 

372 


V.  5]  CALMS  AND  CRISES  273 

lamity  to  which  the  quiet  course  of  our  lives  for  years 
will  be  as  the  still  flow  of  the  river  between  smiling 
lawns  is  to  the  dash  and  fierce  currents  of  the  rapids  in 
a  grim  canon. 

The  tasks  that  may  come  on  us  and  the  tasks  that  must 
come,  the  dangers  that  may  beset  us  and  the  dangers 
that  must  envelop  us,  the  possibilities  that  lie  hidden  in 
the  future,  and  the  certainties  that  we  know  to  be 
shrouded  there,  should  surely  sometimes  occupy  a  wise 
man's  thoughts.  It  is  but  living  in  a  fool's  paradise  to 
soothe  ourselves  with  the  assurance  which  a  moment's 
thought  will  shatter :  '  To-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day. ' 
We  shall  not  always  have  the  easy  competition  with 
footmen ;  there  will  some  time  come  a  call  to  strain  our 
muscles  to  keep  up  with  the  gallop  of  cavalry.  We 
shall  have  to  struggle  to  keep  our  feet  in  the  swelling  of 
Jordan,  and  must  not  expect  to  have  a  continual  lei- 
surely life  in  'a  land  of  peace.' 

II.  Think  of  what  experience  tells  us  as  to  our  power 
to  meet  these  crises. 

The  footmen  have  wearied  you.  The  small  tasks  have 
been  more  than  your  patience  and  strength  could  man- 
age. No  doubt  great  exigencies  often  call  forth  great 
powers  that  were  dormant  in  the  humdrum  of  ordinary 
life.  But  the  man  who  knows  himself  best  will  be  the 
most  ready  to  shrink  with  distrust  from  the  dread  possi- 
bilities of  duty. 

If  we  think  of  the  '  footmen  '  with  whom  we  have  con- 
tended as  representing  the  smaller  faults  that  we  have 
tried  to  overcome,  does  our  success  in  conquering  some 
small  bad  habit,  some  '  little  sin, '  encourage  the  hope 
that  we  could  keep  our  footing  when  some  great  temp- 
tation of  a  lifetime  came  down  on  us  with  a  rush  like 


274  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xiii. 

the  charge  of  a  battaUon  of  horsemen?  Or,  if  we  cast 
our  eyes  forward  to  the  calamities  that  lie  still  '  on  the 
knees  of  the  gods  '  for  us,  do  we  feel  ready  to  meet  the 
hours  of  desolating  disaster,  the  '  hour  of  death  and  the 
day  of  judgment'?  Even  in  a  land  of  peace  we  have 
all  had  alarms,  perturbations,  and  defeats  enough,  and 
our  security  has  been  at  the  mercy  of  marauders  so  often 
that  if  we  are  wise,  and  take  due  heed  of  what  expe- 
rience has  to  say  to  us  of  our  reserve  of  force,  we  shall 
not  be  hopeful  of  keeping  our  footing  in  the  whirling 
currents  of  a  river  in  full  flood. 

III.  Think  of  the  power  that  will  fit  us  for  all  crises. 

With  the  power  of  Jesus  in  our  spirits  we  shall  never 
have  to  attempt  a  duty  for  which  we  are  not  strength- 
ened, nor  to  front  a  danger  from  and  in  which  He  will 
not  defend  us.  With  His  life  in  us  we  shall  be  ready  for 
the  long  hours  of  uneventful,  unexciting  duties,  and  for 
the  short  spurts  that  make  exacting  calls  on  us.  We 
'  shall  run  and  not  be  weary ;  we  shall  walk  and  not 
faint. '  If  we  live  in  Jesus  we  shall  always  be  in  ^  a  land 
of  peace, '  and  no  '  plague  shall  come  nigh  our  dwelling. ' 
Even  when  the  soles  of  our  feet  rest  in  the  waters  of 
Jordan,  the  waters  of  Jordan  shall  be  cut  off,  and  we 
shall  pass  over  on  dry  ground  into  the  land  of  peace, 
where  they  that  would  swallow  us  up  shall  be  far  away 
for  ever. 

AN   IMPOSSIBILITY  MADE   POSSIBLE 

'Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his  skin?' — Jer.  xiii.  23. 

'If  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature.' — 2  CoR.  v.  17. 

'Behold,  I  make  all  things  new.' — Rev.  xxi.  5. 

Put  these  three  texts  together.  The  first  is  a  despairing 
question  to  which  experience  gives  only  too  sad  and  de- 


V.  23]  IMPOSSIBILITY  MADE  POSSIBLE    275 

cisive  a  negative  answer.  It  is  the  answer  of  many  peo- 
ple who  tell  us  that  character  must  be  eternal,  and  of 
many  a  baffled  man  who  says,  '  It  is  of  no  use — I  have 
tried  and  can  do  nothing. '  The  second  text  is  the  grand 
Christian  answer,  full  of  confidence.  It  was  spoken  by 
one  who  had  no  superficial  estimate  of  the  evil,  but  who 
had  known  in  himself  the  power  of  Christ  to  revolution- 
ise a  life,  and  make  a  man  love  all  he  had  hated,  and 
hate  all  he  had  loved,  and  fling  away  all  he  had  treas- 
ured. The  last  text  predicts  the  completion  of  the  reno- 
vating process  lying  far  ahead,  but  as  certain  as  sunrise. 

I.  The  unchangeableness  of  character,  especially  of 
faults. 

We  note  the  picturesque  rhetorical  question  here. 
They  were  occasionally  accustomed  to  see  the  dark- 
skinned'  Ethiopian,  whether  we  suppose  that  these  were 
true  negroes  from  Southern  Egypt  or  dark  Arabs,  and 
now  and  then  leopards  came  up  from  the  thickets  on  the 
Jordan,  or  from  the  hills  of  the  southern  wilderness 
about  the  Dead  Sea.  The  black  hue  of  the  man,  the 
dark  spots  that  starred  the  skin  of  the  fierce  beast,  are 
fitting  emblems  of  the  evil  that  dyes  and  speckles  the 
soul.  Whether  it  wraps  the  whole  character  in  black, 
or  whether  it  only  spots  it  here  and  there  with  tawny 
yellow,  it  is  ineradicable;  and  a  man  can  no  more 
change  his  character  once  formed  than  a  negro  can  cast 
his  skin,  or  a  leopard  whiten  out  the  spots  on  his  hide. 

Now  we  do  not  need  to  assert  that  a  man  has  no  power 
of  self-improvement  or  reformation.  The  exhortations 
of  the  prophet  to  repentance  and  to  cleansing  imply  that 
he  has.  If  he  has  not,  then  it  is  no  blame  to  him  that 
he  does  not  mend.  Experience  shows  that  we  have  a 
very  considerable  power  of  such  a  kind.     It  is  a  pity  that 


276  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xiii. 

some  Christian  teachers  speak  in  exaggerated  terms 
about  the  impossibility  of  such  self -improvement. 

But  it  is  very  difficult. 

Note  the  great  antagonist  as  set  forth  here — Habit, 
that  solemn  and  mystical  power.  We  do  not  know  all 
the  ways  in  which  it  operates,  but  one  chief  way  is 
through  physical  cravings  set  up.  It  is  strange  how 
much  easier  a  second  time  is  than  a  first,  especiallj''  in 
regard  to  evil  acts.  The  hedge  once  broken  down,  it  is 
very  easy  to  get  through  it  again.  If  one  drop  of  water 
has  percolated  through  the  dyke,  there  will  be  a  roar- 
ing torrent  soon.  There  is  all  the  difference  between 
once  and  never ;  there  is  small  difference  between  once 
and  twice.  By  habit  we  come  to  do  things  mechanic- 
ally and  without  effort,  and  we  all  like  that.  One  soli- 
tary footfall  across  the  snow  soon  becomes  a  beaten  way. 
As  in  the  banyan-tree,  each  branch  becomes  a  root.  All 
life  is  held  together  by  cords  of  custom  which  enable  us 
to  reserve  conscious  effort  and  intelligence  for  greater 
moments.  Habit  tends  to  weigh  upon  us  with  a  pressure 
'  heavy  as  frost,  and  deep  almost  as  life. '  But  also  it  is 
the  ally  of  good. 

The  change  to  good  is  further  made  difficult  because 
liking  too  often  goes  with  evil,  and  good  is  only  won  by 
effort.  It  is  a  proof  of  man's  corruption  that  if  left 
alone,  evil  in  some  form  or  other  springs  spontaneously, 
and  that  the  opposite  good  is  hard  to  win.  Uncultivated 
soil  bears  thistles  and  weeds.  Anything  can  roll  down- 
hill. It  is  always  the  least  trouble  to  go  on  as  we  have 
been  going. 

Further,  the  change  is  made  difficult  because  custom 
blinds  judgment  and  conscience.  People  accustomed  to 
a  vitiated   atmosphere  are  not  aware  of  its  foulness. 


V.23]    IMPOSSIBILITY  MADE  POSSIBLE    277 

How  long  it  takes  a  nation,  for  instance,  to  awake  to 
consciousness  of  some  national  crime,  even  when  the 
nation  is  '  Christian  ' !  And  how  men  get  perfectly 
sophisticated  as  to  their  own  sins,  and  have  all  manner 
of  euphemisms  for  them! 

Further,  how  hard  it  is  to  put  energy  into  a  will  that 
has  been  enfeebled  by  long  compliance.  Like  prisoners 
brought  out  of  the  Bastille. 

So  if  we  put  all  these  reasons  together,  no  wonder  that 
such  reformation  is  rare, 

I  do  not  dwell  on  the  point  that  it  must  necessarily  be 
confined  within  very  narrow  limits.  I  appeal  to  expe- 
rience. You  have  tried  to  cure  some  trivial  habit.  You 
know  what  a  task  that  has  been — how  often  you  thought 
that  you  had  conquered,  and  then  found  that  all  had  to 
be  done  over  again.  How  much  more  is  this  the  case  in 
this  greater  work!  Often  the  efforts  to  break  off  evil 
habits  have  the  same  effect  as  the  struggles  of  cattle 
mired  in  a  bog,  who  sink  the  deeper  for  plunging.  The 
sad  cry  of  many  a  foiled  wrestler  with  his  own  evil  is, 
*  O  wretched  man  that  I  am !  who  shall  deliver  me  from 
the  body  of  this  death?  '  We  do  not  wish  to  exaggerate, 
but  simply  to  put  it  that  experience  shows  that  for  men 
in  general,  custom  and  inclination  and  indolence  and  the 
lack  of  adequate  motive  weigh  so  heavily  that  a  thorough 
abandonment  of  evil,  much  more  a  hearty  practice  of 
good,  are  not  to  be  looked  for  when  once  a  character  has 
been  formed.  So  you  young  people,  take  care.  And  all 
of  us  listen  to — 

II.   The  great  hope  for  individual  renewal. 

The  second  text  sets  forth  a  possibility  of  entire  indi- 
vidual renewal,  and  does  so  by  a  strong  metaphor. 

'  If  any  man  be  in  Christ  he  is  a  new  creature, '  or  as 


278  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xiii. 

the  words  might  be  rendered,  '  there  is  a  new  creation,' 
and  not  only  is  he  renewed,  but  all  things  are  become 
new.     He  is  a  new  Adam  in  a  new  world. 

Now  (a)  let  us  beware  of  exaggeration  about  this  mat- 
ter. There  are  often  things  said  about  the  effects  of  con- 
version which  are  very  far  in  advance  of  reality,  and 
give  a  handle  to  caricature.  The  great  law  of  continu- 
ity runs  on  through  the  change  of  conversion.  Take  a 
man  who  has  been  the  slave  of  some  sin.  The  evil  will 
not  cease  to  tempt,  nor  will  the  effects  of  the  past  on 
character  be  annihilated.  '  Whatsoever  a  man  soweth, 
that  shall  he  also  reap, '  remains  true.  In  many  ways 
there  will  be  permanent  consequences.  There  will  remain 
the  scars  of  old  wounds ;  old  sores  will  be  ready  to  burst 
forth  afresh.    The  great  outlines  of  character  do  remain. 

(6)  What  is  the  condition  of  renewal? 

'  If  any  man  be  in  Christ ' — how  distinctly  that  implies 
something  more  than  human  in  Paul's  conception  of 
Christ.  It  implies  personal  union  with  Him,  so  that  He 
is  the  very  element  or  atmosphere  in  which  we  live. 
And  that  union  is  brought  about  by  faith  in  Him. 

(c)  How  does  such  a  state  of  union  with  Christ  make 
a  man  over  again? 

It  gives  a  new  aim  and  centre  for  our  lives.  Then  we 
live  not  unto  ourselves;  then  everything  is  different  and 
looks  so,  for  the  centre  is  shifted.  That  union  intro- 
duces a  constant  reference  to  Him  and  contemplation  of 
His  death  for  us,  it  leads  to  self-abnegation. 

It  puts  all  life  under  the  influence  of  a  new  love,  '  The 
love  of  Christ  constraineth. '  As  is  a  man's  love,  so  is 
his  life.  The  mightiest  revolution  is  to  excite  a  new 
love,  by  which  old  loves  and  tastes  are  expelled.  'A 
new  affection'  has  '  expulsive  power, '  as  the  new  sap  ris- 


V.  23]  IMPOSSIBILITY  MADE  POSSIBLE    279 

ing  in  the  springtime  pushes  off  the  lingering  withered 
leaves.  So  union  with  Him  meets  the  difficulty  arising 
from  inclination  still  hankering  after  evil.  It  lifts  life 
into  a  higher  level  where  the  noxious  creatures  that  were 
proper  to  the  swamps  cannot  live.  The  new  love  gives 
a  new  and  mighty  motive  for  obedience. 

That  union  breaks  the  terrible  chain  that  binds  us  to 
the  past.  'All  died.'  The  past  is  broken  as  much  as  if 
we  were  dead.  It  is  broken  by  the  great  act  of  forgive- 
ness. Sin  holds  men  by  making  them  feel  as  if  what 
has  been  must  be — an  awful  entail  of  evil.  In  Christ  we 
die  to  former  self. 

That  union  brings  a  new  divine  power  to  work  in  us. 
'  I  live,  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me. ' 

It  sets  us  in  a  new  world  which  yet  is  the  old.  All 
things  are  changed  if  we  are  changed.  They  are  the 
same  old  things,  but  seen  in  a  new  light,  used  for  new 
purposes,  disclosing  new  relations  and  powers.  Earth 
becomes  a  school  and  discipline  for  heaven.  The  world  is 
different  to  a"blind  man  when  cured,  or  to  a  deaf  one, — 
there  are  new  sights  for  the  one,  new  sounds  for  the  other. 

All  this  is  true  in  the  measure  in  which  we  live  in 
union  with  Christ. 

So  no  man  need  despair,  nor  think,  '  I  cannot  mend 
now. '  You  may  have  tried  and  been  defeated  a  thou- 
sand times.  But  still  victory  is  possible,  not  without 
effort  and  sore  conflict,  but  still  possible.  There  is  hope 
for  all,  and  hope  for  me. 

III.  The  completion  in  a  perfectly  renewed  creation. 

The  renovation  here  is  only  partial.  Its  very  incom- 
pleteness is  prophetic.  If  there  be  this  new  life  in  us, 
it  obviously  has  not  reached  its  fulness  here,  and  it  is 
obviously  not  manifested  here  for  all  that  even  here  it  is. 


280  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xiii. 

It  is  like  some  exotic  that  does  not  show  its  true  beauty 
in  our  greenhouses.  The  life  of  a  Christian  on  earth  is 
a  prophecy  by  both  its  greatness  and  its  smallness,  by 
both  its  glory  and  its  shame,  by  both  its  brightness  and 
its  spots.  It  cannot  be  that  there  is  always  to  be  this 
disproportion  between  aspiration  and  performance,  be- 
tween willing  and  doing.  Here  the  most  perfect  career 
is  like  a  half -lighted  street,  with  long  gaps  between  the 
lamps. 

The  surroundings  here  are  uncongenial  to  the  new 
creatures.  '  Foxes  have  holes  ' — all  creatures  are  fitted 
for  their  environment ;  only  man,  and  eminently  renewed 
man,  wanders  as  a  pilgrim,  not  in  his  home.  The  pres- 
ent frame  of  things  is  for  discipline.  The  schooling 
over,  we  burn  the  rod.  So  we  look  for  an  external  order 
in  full  correspondence  with  the  new  nature. 

And  Christ  throned  '  makes  all  things  new. '  How  far 
the  old  is  renewed  we  cannot  tell,  and  we  need  not  ask. 
Enough  that  there  shall  be  a  universe  in  perfect  har- 
mony with  the  completely  renewed  nature,  that  we  shall 
find  a  home  where  all  things  will  serve  and  help  and 
gladden  and  further  us,  where  the  outward  will  no  more 
distract  and  clog  the  spirit. 

Brethren,  let  that  might}''  love  constrain  you ;  and  look 
to  Christ  to  renew  you.  Whatever  your  old  self  may 
have  been,  you  may  bury  it  deep  in  His  grave,  and  rise 
with  Him  to  newness  of  life.  Then  you  may  walk  in 
this  old  world,  new  creatures  in  Christ  Jesus,  looking  for 
the  blessed  hope  of  entire  renewal  into  the  perfect  like- 
ness of  Him,  the  perfect  man,  in  a  perfect  world,  where 
all  old  sorrows  and  sins  have  passed  away  and  He  has 
made  all  things  new.  Through  eternity,  new  joys,  new 
knowledge,  new  progress,  new  likeness,  new  service  will 


V.  23]  TRIUMPHANT  PRAYER  281 

be  ours — and  not  one  leaf  shall  ever  wither  in  the  ama- 
ranthine crown,  nor  '  the  cup  of  blessing '  ever  become 
empty  or  flat  and  stale.  Eternity  will  be  but  a  continual 
renewal  and  a  progressive  increase  of  ever  fresh  and  ever 
familiar  treasures.     The  new  and  the  old  will  be  one. 

Begin  with  trusting  to  Him  to  help  you  to  change  a 
deeper  blackness  than  that  of  the  Ethiopian's  skin,  and 
to  erase  firier  spots  than  stain  the  tawny  leopard's  hide, 
and  He  will  make  you  a  new  man,  and  set  you  in  His 
own  time  in  a  '  new  heaven  and  earth,  where  dwelleth 
righteousness. ' 


TRIUMPHANT  PRAYER 

'O  Lord,  though  our  iniquities  testify  against  us,  do  Thou  it  for  Thy 
name's  sake:  for  our  backslidings  are  many;  we  have  sinned  against  Thee. 
8.  O  the  hope  of  Israel,  the  saviour  thereof  in  time  of  trouble,  why  should- 
est  Thou  be  as  a  stranger  in  the  land,  and  as  a  wayfaring  man  that  turneth 
aside  to  tarry  for  a  night?  9.  Why  shouldest  Thou  be  as  a  man  astonied, 
as  a  mighty  man  that  cannot  save?  yet  Thou,  O  Lord,  art  in  the  midst  of 
us,  and  we  are  called  by  Thy  name;  leave  us  not.' — Jer.  xiv.  7-9. 

My  purpose  now  carries  me  very  far  away  from  the  im- 
mediate occasion  of  these  words;  yet  I  cannot  refrain 
from  a  passing  reference  to  the  wonderful  pathos  and 
picturesque  power  with  which  the  long-forgotten  calam- 
ity that  evoked  them  is  portrayed  in  the  context.  A 
terrible  drought  has  fallen  upon  the  land,  and  the  proph- 
et's picture  of  it  is,  if  one  might  say  so,  like  some  of 
Dante's  in  its  realism,  in  its  tenderness,  and  in  its  terror. 
In  the  presence  of  a  common  calamity  all  distinctions  of 
class  have  vanished,  and  the  nobles  send  their  little  ones 
to  the  well,  and  they  come  back  with  empty  vessels  and 
drooping  heads  instead  of  with  the  gladness  that  used  to 
be  heard  in  the  place  of  drawing  of  water.  The  plough- 
men are  standing  among  the  cracked  furrows,  gazing 


282  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xiv. 

with  despair  on  the  brown  chapped  earth,  and  in  the 
field  the  very  dumb  creatures  are  sharing  in  the  common 
sorrow,  and  the  imperious  law  of  self-preservation  over- 
powers and  crushes  the  maternal  instincts.  '  Yea,  the 
hind  also  calved  in  the  field,  and  forsook  it,  because 
there  was  no  grass. '  And  on  every  little  hilltop  where 
cooler  air  might  be  found,  the  once  untamable  wild  asses 
are  standing  with  open  nostrils  panting  for  the  breeze, 
their  filmy  eyes  failing  them,  gazing  for  the  rain  that 
will  not  come.  And  then,  from  contemplating  all  that 
sorrow,  the  prophet  turns  to  God  with  a  wondrous  burst 
of  strangely  blended  confidence  and  abasement,  peni- 
tence and  trust,  and  fuses  together  the  acknowledgment 
of  sin  and  reliance  upon  the  established  and  perpetual 
relation  between  Israel  and  God,  pleading  with  Him 
about  His  judgments,  presenting  before  Him  the  myste- 
rious contradiction  that  such  a  calamity  should  fall  on 
those  with  whom  God  dwelt,  and  casting  himself  lowly 
before  the  throne,  and  pleading  the  ancient  name :  '  Do 
Thou  it!     Leave  us  not.' 

It  is  to  the  wonderful  fulness  and  richness  of  this 
prayer  that  I  ask  your  attention  in  these  few  remarks. 
Expositors  have  differed  as  to  whether  the  drought  that 
forms  its  basis  was  a  literal  one,  or  is  the  prophet's  way 
of  putting  the  sore  calamities  that  had  fallen  on  Israel. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  I  need  not  remind  you  how  often  in 
Scripture  that  metaphor  of  the  '  rain  that  cometh  down 
from  heaven  and  watereth  the  earth  '  is  the  symbol  for 
God's  divine  gift  of  His  Spirit,  and  how,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  picture  of  the  '  dry  and  thirsty  land  where  no 
water  is '  is  the  appropriate  figure  for  the  condition  of 
the  soul  or  of  the  Church  void  of  the  divine  presence. 
And  I  think  I  shall  not  mistake  if  I  say  that  though  we 


vs.  7  9]         TRIUMPHANT  PRAYER  283 

have  much  to  make  us  thankful,  yet  you  and  I,  dear 
brethren,  and  all  our  Churches  and  congregations,  are 
suffering  under  this  drought,  and  the  merciful  '  rain 
wherewith  Thou  dost  confirm  Thine  inheritance  when  it 
is  weary  '  has  not  yet  come  as  we  would  have  it.  May 
we  find  in  these  words  some  gospel  for  the  day  that  may 
help  us  to  come  to  the  temper  of  mind  into  which  there 
shall  descend  the  showers  to  '  make  soft  the  earth  and 
bless  the  springing  thereof! ' 

Glancing  over  these  clauses,  then,  and  trying  to  put 
them  into  something  like  order  for  our  purpose,  there 
are  four  things  that  I  would  have  you  note.  The  first 
is  the  mysterious  contradiction  between  the  ideal  Israel 
and  the  actual  state  of  things ;  the  second  is  the  earnest 
inquiry  as  to  the  cause ;  the  third  the  penitent  confession 
of  our  sinfulness;  and  the  last,  the  triumphant  confi- 
dence of  believing  prayer. 

I.  First  of  all,  then,  look  at  the  illustration  given  to 
us  by  these  words  of  the  mysterious  contradiction  be- 
tween the  ideal  of  Israel  and  the  actual  condition  of 
things. 

Recur,  for  the  sake  of  illustration,  to  the  historical 
event  upon  which  our  text  is  based.  The  old  prophet 
had  said,  '  The  Lord  thy  God  giveth  thee  a  good  land,  a 
land  full  of  brooks  and  water,  rivers  and  depths,  a  land 
wherein  thou  shalt  eat  bread  without  scarceness,  thou 
shalt  not  lack  anything  in  it ' ;  and  the  startling  fact  is, 
that  these  men  saw  around  them  a  land  full  of  misery 
for  want  of  that  very  gift  which  had  been  promised. 
The  ancient  charter  of  Israel's  existence  was  that  God 
should  dwell  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  what  was  it  that 
they  beheld?  'As  things  are,'  says  the  prophet,  'it 
looks  as  if  that  perennial   presence  which   Thou  hast 


284  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xiv. 

promised  had  been  changed  into  visits,  short  and  far  be- 
tween. Why  shouldest  Thou  be  as  a  stranger  in  the 
land,  and  as  a  wayfaring  man,  that  turneth  aside  to 
tarry  for  a  night?  ' 

Now,  I  suppose  there  are  two  ideas  intended  to  be 
conveyed — the  brief,  transitory,  interrupted  visits,  with 
long,  dreary  stretches  of  absence  between  them ;  and  the 
indifference  of  the  visitant,  as  a  man  who  pitches  his 
tent  in  some  little  village  to-night  cares  very  little  about 
the  people  that  he  never  saw  before  this  afternoon's 
march,  and  will  never  see  after  to-morrow  morning. 
And  not  only  is  it  so,  but,  instead  of  the  perpetual  en- 
ergy of  this  divine  aid  that  had  been  promised  to  Israel, 
as  things  are  now,  it  looks  as  if  He  was  a  mighty  man 
astonied,  a  hero  that  cannot  save — some  warrior  stricken 
by  panic  fear  into  a  paralysis  of  all  his  strength — a  Sam- 
son with  his  locks  shorn.  The  ideal  had  been  so  great 
— perpetual  gifts,  perpetual  presence,  perpetual  energy ; 
the  reality  is  chapped  ground  and  parched  places,  occa- 
sional visitations,  like  vanishing  gleams  of  sunshine  in 
a  winter's  day,  and  a  paralysis,  as  it  would  appear,  of 
all  the  ancient  might. 

Dear  Christian  friends,  am  I  exaggerating,  or  dealing 
only  with  one  set  of  phenomena,  and  forgetting  the  coun- 
terpoising ones  on  the  other  side,  when  I  say.  Change 
the  name,  and  the  story  is  told  about  us?  God  be 
thanked  we  have  much  that  shows  us  that  He  has  not 
left  us,  but  yet,  when  we  think  of  what  we  are,  and  of 
what  God  has  promised  that  we  should  be,  surely  we 
must  confess  that  there  is  the  most  sad,  and,  but  for  one 
reason,  the  most  mysterious  contradiction  between  the 
divine  ideal  and  the  actual  facts  of  the  case.  Need  we 
go  further  to  learn  what  God  meant  His  Church  to  be, 


vs.  7-9]        TRIUMPHANT  PRAYER  285 

than  the  last  words  that  Jesus  Christ  said  to  us — '  Lo, 
I  am  with  you  alway,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world '  ? 
Need  we  go  further  than  those  metaphors  which  come 
from  His  lips  as  precepts,  and,  like  all  His  precepts,  are 
a  commandment  upon  the  surface,  but  a  promise  in  the 
sweet  kernel — '  Ye  are  the  salt  of  the  earth, ' '  ye  are  the 
light  of  the  world  ' — or  than  the  prophet's  vision  of  an 
Israel  which  '  shall  be  in  the  midst  of  many  people  as  a 
dew  from  the  Lord '  ?  Is  that  the  description  of  what 
you  and  I  are?  Have  not  we  to  say,  '  We  have  not 
wrought  any  deliverance  in  the  earth,  neither  have  the 
inhabitants  of  the  world  fallen  '  ?  '  Salt  of  the  earth, ' 
and  we  can  hardly  keep  our  own  souls  from  going  pu- 
trid with  the  corruption  that  is  round  about  us.  '  Light 
of  the  world,'  and  our  poor  candles  burnt  low  down 
into  the  socket,  and  sending  up  rather  stench  and  smoke 
than  anything  like  a  clear  flame.  The  words  sound  like 
irony  rather  than  promises,  like  the  very  opposite  of 
what  we  are  rather  than  the  ideals  towards  which  our 
lives  strive.  In  our  lips  they  are  presumption,  and  in 
the  lips  of  the  world,  as  we  only  too  well  know,  they  are 
a  not  undeserved  scoff,  to  be  said  with  curved  lip,  '  The 
salt  of  the  earth, '  and  '  the  light  of  the  world  ' ! 

And  look  at  what  we  are  doing :  scarcely  holding  our 
own  numerically.  Here  and  there  a  man  comes  and  de- 
clares what  God  has  done  for  his  soul.  But  what  is  the 
Church,  what  are  the  Christian  men  of  England,  with 
all  their  multifarious  activities,  performing?  Are  we 
leavening  the  national  mind?  Are  we  breathing  a  high- 
er godliness  into  trade,  a  more  wholesome,  simple  style 
of  living  into  society?  And  as  for  expansion,  why,  the 
Church  at  home  does  not  keep  up  with  the  actual  in- 
crease of  the  population;  and  we  are  conquering  hea- 


286  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xiv. 

thendom  as  we  might  hope  to  drain  the  ocean  by  taking 
out  thimblefuls  at  a  time.  Is  that  what  the  Lord  meant 
us  to  do?  Our  Father  with  us;  yes,  but  oh!  as  a 
'  mighty  man,  astonied, '  as  He  might  well  be,  '  that  can- 
not save '  for  the  old,  old  reason,  '  He  did  not  many 
mighty  works  there  because  of  their  unbelief, '  No  won- 
der that  on  the  other  side  men  are  saying — and  it  is  not 
such  a  very  presumptuous  thing  to  say,  if  you  have  re- 
gard only  to  the  facts  that  appear  on  the  surface— men 
are  saying,  '  wait  a  little  while,  and  all  these  organisa- 
tions will  come  to  nothing ;  these  Christian  churches,  as 
they  are  called, '  and  everything  that  you  and  I  regard 
as  distinctive  of  Christianity,  '  will  be  gone  and  be  for- 
gotten. '  We  believe  ourselves  to  be  in  possession  of  an 
eternal  light ;  the  world  looks  at  us  and  sees  that  it  is 
like  a  flickering  flame  in  a  dying  lamp.  Dear  brethren, 
if  I  think  of  the  lowness  of  our  own  religious  characters, 
the  small  extent  to  which  we  influence  the  society  in 
which  we  live,  of  the  slow  rate  at  which  the  Gospel  pro- 
gresses in  our  land,  I  can  only  ask  the  question,  and 
pray  you  to  lay  it  to  heart,  which  the  old  prophet  asked 
long  ago:  'O  Thou  that  art  named  the  house  of  Jacob, 
is  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  straitened?  Are  these  His  do- 
ings? Do  not  my  words  do  good  to  them  that  walk  up- 
rightly?' '  Why  shouldest  Thou  be  as  a  mighty  man 
that  cannot  save? ' 

II.  Let  me  ask  you  to  look  at  the  second  thought  that 
I  think  may  fairly  be  gathered  from  these  words,  name- 
ly, that  this  consciousness  of  our  low  and  evil  condition 
ought  to  lead  to  very  earnest  and  serious  inquiry  as  to  its 
cause. 

The  prophet  having  acknowledged  transgression  yet 
asks  a  question,  '  Why  shouldest  Thou  leave  us?     Why 


vs.  7-9]        TRIUMPHANT  PRAYER  287 

have  all  these  things  come  upon  us?  '  And  he  asks  it 
not  as  ignorant  of  the  answer,  but  in  order  that  the 
answer  may  be  deepened  in  the  consciences  and  percep- 
tions of  those  that  listen  to  him,  and  that  they  together 
may  take  the  answer  to  the  Throne  of  God.  There  can 
bt  no  doubt  in  a  Christian  mind  as  to  the  reason,  and 
yot  there  is  an  absolute  necessity  that  the  familiar  truth 
aj  to  the  reason  should  be  driven  home  to  our  own  con- 
sciences, and  made  part  of  our  own  spiritual  experience, 
by  our  own  honest  reiteration  of  it  and  reflection  upon  it. 
'  Why  shouldest  Thou  leave  us? '  Now,  I  need  not 
spend  time  by  taking  into  consideration  answers  that 
other  people  might  give.  I  suppose  that  none  of  us  will 
say  that  the  reason  is  in  any  variableness  of  that  unal- 
terable, uniform,  ever  present,  ever  full,  divine  gift  of 
God's  Spirit  to  His  children.  We  do  not  believe  in  any 
arbitrary  sovereignty  that  withdraws  that  gift ;  we  do 
not  believe  that  that  gift  rises  and  falls  in  its  fulness  and 
its  abundance.  We  believe  that  the  great  reservoir  is 
always  full,  and  that,  if  ever  our  small  tanks  be  empty, 
it  is  because  there  is  something  choking  the  pipe,  not  be- 
cause there  is  anything  less  in  the  centre  storehouse.  We 
believe,  if  I  may  take  another  illustration,  that  it  is  with 
the  seasons  and  the  rotation  of  day  and  night  in  the 
religious  experience  as  it  is  with  them  in  the  natural 
world.  Summer  and  winter  come  and  go,  not  because 
of  any  variableness  in  the  centre  orb,  but  because  of  the 
variation  in  the  inclination  of  the  circling  satellite ;  day 
and  night  come  not  by  reason  of  any  '  shadow  cast  by 
turning  '  from  the  sun  that  revolves  not  at  all — but  by 
reason  of  the  side  that  is  turned  to  his  life-giving  and 
quickening  beams.  We  believe  that  all  the  clouds  and 
mist  that  come  between  us  and  God  are  like  the  clouds 


288  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xiv. 

and  mist  of  the  sky,  not  dropped  upon  us  from  the  bhie 
empyrean  above,  but  sucked  up  from  the  undrained 
swamps  and  poisonous  fens  of  the  lower  earth.  That  is 
to  say,  if  there  be  any  change  in  the  fulness  of  our  pos- 
session of  the  divine  Spirit,  the  fault  lies  wholly  within 
the  region  of  the  mutable  and  of  the  human,  and  not ,  .t 
all  in  the  region  of  the  perennial  and  divine. 

Nor  do  we  believe,  I  suppose,  any  of  us,  that  we  are 
to  look  for  any  part  of  the  reason  in  failure  of  the  adaii- 
tation  of  God's  work  and  God's  ordinances  to  the  great 
work  which  they  have  to  do.  Other  people  may  tell  us, 
if  they  like — it  will  not  shake  our  confidence — that  the 
fire  that  was  kindled  at  Pentecost  has  all  died  down  to 
grey  ashes,  and  that  it  is  of  no  use  trying  to  cower  over 
the  burnt-out  embers  any  more  in  order  to  get  heat  out 
of  them.  They  may,  and  do,  tell  us  that  the  '  rushing, 
mighty  wind  that  filled  the  house  '  obeys  the  law  of  cy- 
cles as  the  wind  of  the  natural  universe,  and  will  calm 
into  stillness  after  a  while,  and  then  set  in  and  blow 
from  the  opposite  quarter.  They  may  tell  us,  and  they 
do  tell  us,  that  the  '  river  of  the  water  of  life  that  flows 
from  the  Throne  of  God  and  of  the  Lamb '  is  lost  in  the 
sands  of  time,  like  the  streams  in  the  great  Mongolian 
plateau.  We  do  not  believe  that.  Everything  stands 
exactly  as  it  always  has  been  in  regard  to  the  perennial 
possession  of  Christ's  Spirit  as  the  strength  and  resource 
of  His  Church;  and  the  fault,  dear  friends,  lies  only 
here :  '  O  Lord,  our  iniquities  testify  against  us ;  our 
backslidings  are  many ;  we  have  sinned  against  Thee. ' 

Oh,  let  me  urge  upon  you,  and  upon  myself,  that  the 
first  thing  which  we  have  to  do  is  prayerfully  and  pa- 
tiently and  honestly  to  search  after  this  cause,  and  not 
look  to  superficial  trifles  such  as  possible  variations  and 


vs.  7-9]        TRIUMPHANT  PRAYER  289 

improvements  in  order  and  machinery,  and  polity  or 
creed,  or  anything  else,  as  the  means  of  changing  and 
bettering  the  condition  of  things,  but  to  recognise  this  as 
being  the  one  sole  cause  that  hinders — the  slackness  of 
our  own  hold  on  Christ's  hand,  and  the  feebleness  and 
imperfection  of  our  own  spiritual  life.  Dear  brethren, 
there  is  no  worse  sign  of  the  condition  of  churches  than 
the  calm  indifference  and  complacency  in  the  present 
condition  of  things  which  visits  very  many  of  us ;  it  is 
like  a  deadly  malaria  wherever  it  is  to  be  found,  and 
there  is  no  more  certain  precursor  of  a  blessed  change 
than  a  widespread  dissatisfaction  with  what  we  are,  and 
an  honest,  earnest  search  after  the  cause.  The  sleeper 
that  is  restless,  and  tosses  and  turns,  is  near  awakening ; 
and  the  ice  that  cracks,  and  crumbles,  and  groans,  and 
heaves,  is  on  the  point  of  breaking  up.  When  Christian 
men  and  women  are  aroused  to  this,  the  startled  recog- 
nition of  how  far  beneath  the  ideal — no,  I  should  not  say 
how  far  beneath,  but  rather  how  absolutely  opposed  to, 
the  ideal — so  much  of  our  Christian  life  and  work  is, 
and  when  further  they  push  the  inquiry  for  the  cause,  so 
as  to  find  that  it  lies  in  their  own  sin,  then  we  shall  be 
near  the  time,  yea,  the  '  set  time,  to  favour  Zion. ' 

III.  And  so  let  me  point  you,  in  the  next  place — and 
but  a  word  or  two  on  that  matter — to  the  consideration 
that  the  consciousness  of  the  evil  condition  and  knowl- 
edge of  its  cause  leads  on  to  lowly  penitence  and  confes- 
sion. 

I  dwell  upon  that  for  a  moment  for  one  reason  mainly. 
I  suppose  that  it  is  a  very  familiar  observation  with  us 
all  that  when,  by  God's  mercy,  any  of  us  individually, 
or  as  communities,  are  awakened  to  a  sense  of  our  own 
departure  from  what  He  would  have  us  be,  and  the  fee- 

VOL.    II.  9. 


290  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xiv. 

bleness  of  all  our  Christian  work,  we  are  very  apt  to  be 
led  away  upon  the  wrong  scent  altogether,  and  instead 
of  seeking  improvement  and  revivification  in  God's  order, 
we  set  up  an  order  of  our  own,  which  is  a  great  deal 
more  pleasing  to  our  own  natural  inclinations.  For  in- 
stance, to  bring  the  thing  to  a  practical  illustration,  sup- 
pose I  were,  after  these  remarks  of  mine,  as  a  kind  of 
corollary  from  them,  to  ask  for  volunteers  for  some  new 
form  of  Christian  work,  I  believe  I  should  get  twenty  for 
one  that  I  should  get  if  I  simply  said,  '  Brethren,  let  us 
go  together  and  confess  our  sins  before  God,  and  ask 
Him  not  to  leave  us. '  We  are  always  tempted  to  origi- 
nate some  new  kind  of  work,  to  manufacture  a  revival, 
to  begin  by  bringing  together  the  outcasts  into  the  fold, 
instead  of  to  begin  by  trying  to  deepen  our  own  Chris- 
tian character,  and  purifying  our  own  hearts,  and  get- 
ting more  and  more  of  the  life  of  God  into  our  own  spir- 
its, and  then  to  let  the  increase  from  without  come  as  it 
may.  The  true  law  for  us  to  follow  is  to  begin  with 
lowly  abasement  at  His  footstool,  and  when  we  have 
purged  ourselves  from  faults  and  sins  in  the  very  act  of 
confessing  them,  and  of  shaking  them  from  us,  then 
when  we  are  fit  for  growth,  external  growth,  we  shall 
get  it.  But  the  revival  of  the  Church  is  not  what  people 
fancy  it  to  be  so  often  nowadays,  the  gathering  in  of  the 
unconverted  into  its  fold — that  is  the  consequence  of  the 
revival.  The  revival  comes  by  the  path  of  recognition  of 
sin,  and  confession  of  sin,  and  forsaking  of  sin,  and  wait- 
ing before  Him  for  His  blessing  and  His  Spirit.  Let  me 
put  all  that  I  would  say  about  this  matter  into  the  one 
remark,  that  the  law  of  the  whole  process  is  the  old  one 
which  was  exemplified  on  the  day  of  Pentecost.  'Sanc- 
tify a  fast,  call  a  solemn  assembly ;   gather  the  people, 


vs.  7-9]        TRIUMPHANT  PRAYER  291 

assemble  the  elders;  let  the  bridegroom  go  forth  of  his 
chamber,  and  the  bride  out  of  her  closet;  let  the  priests, 
the  ministers  of  the  Lord,  weep  between  the  porch  and 
the  altar.  Yea,  the  Lord  will  be  zealous  for  His  land, 
and  will  pity  His  people ;  and  I  will  pour  out  My  Spirit 
upon  all  flesh. '  Brethren,  to  our  knees  and  to  confes- 
sions! Let  us  see  to  it  that  we  are  right  in  our  own 
inmost  hearts. 

IV.  And  so,  finally,  look  at  the  wonderful  way  in 
which  in  this  text  of  ours  the  prophet  fuses  together  into 
one  indistinguishable  and  yet  not  confused  whole,  con- 
fession, and  pleading  remonstrance  and  also  the  confi- 
dence of  triumphant  prayer. 

I  cannot  touch  upon  the  various  points  of  that  as  I 
would  gladly  do ;  but  I  must  suggest  one  or  two  of  them 
for  your  consideration.  Look  at  the  substance  of  his  pe- 
tition: 'Do  Thou  it  for  Thy  name's  sake.'  'Leave  us 
not. '  That  is  all  he  asks.  He  does  not  prescribe  what 
is  to  be  done.  He  does  not  ask  for  the  taking  away  of 
the  calamity,  he  simply  asks  for  the  continual  presence 
and  the  operation  of  the  divine  hand,  sure  that  God  is 
in  the  midst  of  them,  and  working  all  things  right.  Let 
us  shape  our  expectations  in  like  fashion,  not  being  care- 
ful to  discover  paths  for  Him  to  run  in ;  but  contented  if 
we  can  realise  the  sweetness  and  the  strength  of  His 
calming  and  purging  presence,  and  willing  to  leave  the 
manner  of  His  working  in  His  own  hand. 

Then,  look  at  what  the  text  suggests  as  pleas  with 
God,  and  grounds  of  confidence  for  ourselves.  '  Do  Thou 
it  for  Thy  name's  sake,  the  hope  of  Israel,  the  Saviour 
thereof  in  time  of  trouble.  Thou  art  in  the  midst  of  us, 
we  are  called  by  Thy  name. '  There  are  three  grounds 
upon  which  we  may  base  our  firm  confidence.     The  one 


292  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xiv. 

is  the  name — all  the  ancient  manifestations  of  Thy  char- 
acter, which  have  been  from  of  old,  and  remain  for  our 
perpetual  strength.  '  As  we  have  heard,  so  have  we  seen 
in  the  city  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts. '  '  That  which  is  Thy 
memorial  unto  all  generations  pledges  Thee  to  the  con- 
stant reiteration  and  reproduction,  hour  by  hour,  accord- 
ing to  our  necessity,  of  all  the  might,  and  the  miracles, 
and  the  mercies  of  the  past.  Do  Thou  it  for  Thy  name's 
sake. ' 

And  then  Jeremiah  turns  to  the  throne  of  God  with 
another  plea — '  the  hope  of  Israel ' — and  thereby  fills  his 
mouth  with  the  argument  drawn  from  the  fact  that  the 
confidence  of  the  Church  is  fixed  upon  Him,  and  that  it 
cannot  be  that  He  will  disappoint  it.  '  Because  Thou 
hast  given  us  Thy  name,  and  because  Thy  name,  by  Thy 
grace,  has  become,  through  our  faith,  our  hope.  Thou 
art  doubly  bound — bound  by  what  Thou  art,  bound  by 
what  we  expect — to  be  with  us,  our  strength  and  our 
confidence. ' 

And  the  final  plea  is  the  appeal  to  the  perennial  and 
essential  relationship  of  God  to  His  Church.  '  We  are 
called  by  Thy  name ' — '  we  belong  to  Thee.  It  were 
Thy  concern  and  ours  that  Thy  Gospel  should  spread  in 
the  world,  and  the  honour  of  our  Lord  should  be  ad- 
vanced. Thou  hast  not  surely  lost  Thy  hold  of  Thine 
own,  or  Thy  care  for  Thine  own  property. '  The  psalm- 
ist said,  '  Thou  wilt  not  suffer  him  that  is  devoted  to 
Thee  to  see  corruption. '  And  what  his  faith  felt  to  be 
impossible  in  regard  to  the  bodily  life  is  still  more  un- 
thinkable in  regard  to  the  spiritual.  It  cannot  be  that 
that  which  belongs  to  Him  should  pass  and  perish. 
'  We  are  called  by  Thy  name,  and  Thou,  Lord,  art  in 
the  midst  of  us  ' — not  a  Samson  shorn  of  his  locks:  not 


vs.  7-9]         TRIUMPHANT  PRAYER  293 

a  wayfaring  man  turning  aside  to  delay  for  a  night;  but 
the  abiding  Presence  which  makes  the  Church  glad. 

Dear  brethren,  calm  and  confident  expectation  should 
be  our  attitude,  and  lowly  repentance  should  rise  to  tri- 
umphant believing  hope,  because  God  is  moving  round 
about  us  in  this  day.  Thanks  be  to  His  name,  there  is 
spread  through  us  all  an  expectation  of  great  things. 
That  expectation  brings  its  own  fulfilment,  and  is  always 
God's  way  of  preparing  the  path  for  His  own  large  gifts, 
like  the  strange,  indefinable  attitude  of  expectation 
which  we  know  filled  the  civilised  world  before  the  birth 
of  Jesus  Christ — like  the  breath  of  the  morning  that 
springs  up  before  the  sun  rises,  and  says,  '  The  dawn  ; 
the  dawn, '  and  dies  away.  The  expectation  is  the  pre- 
cursor of  the  gift,  and  the  prayer  is  the  guarantee  of  the 
acceptance.  Take  an  illustration.  Those  great  lakes  in 
Central  Africa  that  are  said  to  feed  the  Nile  are  filled 
with  melting  snows  weeks  and  weeks  before  the  water 
rises  away  down  in  Egypt,  and  brings  fertility  across 
the  desert  that  it  makes  to  glisten  with  greenness,  and 
to  rejoice  and  blossom  as  the  rose.  And  so  in  silence, 
high  up  upon  the  mountains  of  God,  fed  by  communion 
with  Himself,  the  expectation  rises  to  a  flood-tide  ere  it 
flows  down  through  all  the  channels  of  Christian  organi- 
sation and  activity,  and  blesses  the  valleys  below.  It  is 
not  for  us  to  hurry  the  work  of  God,  nor  spasmodically 
to  manufacture  revivals.  It  is  not  for  us,  under  the 
pretence  of  waiting  for  Him,  to  be  cold  and  callous ;  but 
it  is  for  us  to  question  ourselves  wherefore  these  things 
have  come  upon  us,  with  lowly,  penitent  confession  to 
turn  to  God,  and  ask  Him  to  bless  us.  Oh,  if  we  were 
to  do  this,  we  should  not  ask  in  vain!  Let  us  take  the 
prayer  of  our  context,  and  say,  '  We  acknowledge,  0 


294  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xvii. 

Lord,  our  wickedness,  and  the  iniquity  of  our  fathers ; 
for  we  have  sinned  against  Thee.  Are  there  any  among 
the  vanities  of  the  Gentiles  that  can  cause  rain?  or  can 
the  heavens  give  showers?  art  not  Thou  He,  O  Lord,  our 
God?  Therefore  we  will  wait  upon  Thee.'  Be  sure 
that  the  old  merciful  answer  will  come  to  us,  '  I  will 
pour  rivers  of  water  upon  him  that  is  thirsty,  and  floods 
upon  the  dry  ground ;  and  I  will  pour  My  Spirit  upon 
thy  seed,  and  My  blessing  upon  thine  offspring. ' 


SIN'S   WEITING  AND  ITS  ERASUEE 

'The  sin  of  Judah  is  written  with  a  pen  of  iron,  and  with  the  point  of  a 
diamond :  it  is  graven  upon  the  table  of  their  heart,  and  upon  the  horns  of 
your  altars.' — Jer.  xvii.  1. 

'  Ye  are  manifestly  declared  to  be  the  epistle  of  Christ  ministered  by  us, 
written  not  with  ink,  but  with  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God;  not  in  tables 
of  stone,  but  in  fleshy  tables  of  the  heart.' — 2  Cor.  iii.  3. 

'Blotting  out  the  handwriting  that  was  against  us.' — Col.  ii.  14. 

I  HAVE  put  these  verses  together  because  they  all  deal 
with  substantially  the  same  metaphor.  The  first  is  part 
of  a  prophet's  solemn  appeal.  It  describes  the  sin  of  the 
nation  as  indelible.  It  is  written  in  two  places.  First, 
on  their  hearts,  which  reminds  us  of  the  promise  of  the 
new  covenant  to  be  written  on  the  heart.  The  '  red- 
leaved  tablets  of  the  heart '  are  like  waxen  tables  on 
which  an  iron  stylus  makes  a  deep  mark,  an  ineradicable 
scar.  So  Judah 's  sin  is,  as  it  were,  eaten  into  their 
heart,  or,  if  we  might  so  say,  tattooed  on  it.  It  is  also 
written  on  the  stone  horns  of  the  altar,  with  a  diamond 
which  can  cut  the  rock  (an  illustration  of  ancient  knowl- 
edge of  the  properties  of  the  diamond).  That  sounds  a 
strange  place  for  the  record  of  sin  to  appear,  but  the  im- 
age has  profound  meaning,  as  we  shall  see  presently. 


V.  1]      SIN'S  WRITING:  ITS  ERASURE       295 

Then  the  two  New  Testament  passages  deal  with  oth- 
er applications  of  the  same  metaphor.  Christ  is,  in  the 
first,  represented  as  writing  on  the  hearts  of  the  Corin- 
thians, and  in  the  second,  as  taking  away  '  the  hand- 
writing contrary  to  us.'  The  general  thought  drawn 
from  all  is  that  sin's  writing  on  men's  hearts  is  erased 
by  Christ  and  a  new  inscription  substituted. 

I.  The  handwriting  of  sin. 

Sin  committed  is  indelibly  written  on  the  heart  of  the 
doer. 

*  The  heart, '  of  course,  in  Hebrew  means  more  than 
merely  the  supposed  seat  of  the  affections.  It  is  figura- 
tively the  centre  of  the  spiritual  life,  just  as  physically 
it  is  the  centre  of  the  natural.  Thoughts  and  affections, 
purposes  and  desires  are  all  included,  and  out  of  it  are 
'  the  issues  of  life, '  the  whole  outgoings  of  the  being.  It 
is  the  fountain  and  source  of  all  the  activity  of  the  man, 
the  central  unity  from  which  all  comes.  Taken  in  this 
wide  sense  it  is  really  the  whole  inner  self  that  is  meant, 
or,  as  is  said  in  one  place,  'the  hidden  man  of  the  heart.' 
And  so  the  thought  in  this  vigorous  metaphor  may  be 
otherwise  put,  that  all  sin  makes  indelible  marks  on  the 
whole  inward  nature  of  the  man  who  does  it. 

Now  to  begin  with,  think  for  a  moment  of  that  truth 
that  everything  which  we  do  reacts  on  us  the  doers. 

We  seldom  think  of  this.  Deeds  are  done,  and  we 
fancy  that  when  done,  they  are  done  with.  They  pass, 
as  far  as  outward  seeming  goes,  and  their  distinguish- 
able consequences  in  the  outward  world,  in  the  vast  ma- 
jority of  cases,  soon  apparently  pass.  All  seems  eva- 
nescent and  irrecoverable  as  last  year's  snows,  or  the 
water  that  flowed  over  the  cataract  a  century  ago.  But 
there  is  nothing  more  certain  than  that  all  which  we  do 


296  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xvii. 

leaves  indelible  traces  on  ourselves.  The  mightiest  effect 
of  a  man's  actions  is  on  his  own  inward  life.  The  recoil 
of  the  gun  is  more  powerful  than  the  blow  from  its  shot. 
Our  actions  strike  inwards  and  there  produce  their  most 
important  effects.  The  river  runs  ceaselessly  and  its 
waters  pass  away,  but  they  bring  down  soil,  which  is 
deposited  and  makes  firm  land,  or  perhaps  they  carry 
down  grains  of  gold. 

This  is  the  true  solemnity  of  life,  that  in  all  which  we 
do  we  are  carrying  on  a  double  process,  influencing  oth- 
ers indeed,  but  influencing  ourselves  far  more. 

Consider  the  illustrations  of  this  law  in  regard  to  our 
sins. 

Now  the  last  thing  people  think  of  when  they  hear 
sermons  about  '  sin  '  is  that  what  is  meant  is  the  things 
that  they  are  doing  every  day.  I  can  only  ask  you  to 
try  to  remember,  while  I  speak,  that  I  mean  those  little 
acts  of  temper,  or  triflings  with  truth,  or  yieldings  to 
passion  or  anger,  or  indulgence  in  sensuality,  and  above 
all,  the  living  without  God,  to  which  we  are  all  prone. 

(a)  All  wrong-doing  makes  indelible  marks  on  char- 
acter.      It    makes    its   own  repetition   easier.     Habit 
strengthens  inclination.     Peter  found  denying  his  Lord 
three  times  easier  than  doing  it  once.     It  weakens  re-  \/ 
sistance.     In  going  downhill  the  first  step  is  the  only  V 
one  that  needs  an  effort ;  gravity  will  do  the  rest. 

It  drags  after  it  a  tendency  to  other  evil.  All  wrong 
things  have  so  much  in  common  that  they  lead  on  to 
one  another.  A  man  with  only  one  vice  is  a  rare  phe- 
nomenon. Satan  sends  his  apostles  forth  two  by  two. 
Sins  hunt  in  couples,  or  more  usually  in  packs,  like 
wolves,  only  now  and  then  do  they  prey  alone  like  lions. 
Small  thieves  open  windows  for  greater  ones. 


V.  1]     SIN'S  WRITING:    ITS  ERASURE       297 

It  requires  continually  increasing  draughts,  like  indul- 
gence in  stimulants.  The  palate  demands  cayenne  to- 
morrow, if  it  has  had  black  pepper  to-day. 

So,  whatever  else  we  do  by  our  acts,  we  are  making 
our  own  characters,  either  steadily  depraving  or  steadily 
improving  them.  There  will  come  a  slight  slow  change, 
almost  unnoticed  but  most  certain,  as  a  dim  film  will 
creep  over  the  peach,  robbing  it  of  all  its  bloom,  or  some 
microscopic  growth  will  steal  across  a  clearly  cut  inscrip- 
tion, or  a  breath  of  mist  will  dim  a  polished  steel  mirror. 

(6)  All  wrong-doing  writes  indelible  records  on  the 
memory,  that  awful  and  mysterious  power  of  recalling 
past  things  out  of  the  oblivion  in  which  they  seem  to  lie. 
How  solemn  and  miserable  it  is  to  defile  it  with  the  pic- 
tures of  things  evil!  Many  a  man  in  his  later  years  has 
tried  to  '  turn  over  a  new  leaf, '  and  has  never  been  able 
to  get  the  filth  out  of  his  memory,  for  it  has  been  printed 
on  the  old  page  in  such  strong  colours  that  it  shines 
through.  I  beseech  you  all,  and  especially  you  young 
people,  to  keep  yourselves  '  innocent  of  much  transgres- 
sion, '  and  '  simple  concerning  evil ' — to  make  your  mem- 
ories like  an  illuminated  missal  with  fair  saints  and 
calm  angels  bordering  the  holy  words,  and  not  an  Illus- 
trated Police  News.  Probably  there  is  no  real  oblivion. 
Each  act  sinks  in  as  if  forgotten,  gets  overlaid  with  a 
multitude  of  others,  but  it  is  there,  and  memory  will  one 
day  bring  it  to  us. 

And  all  sin  pollutes  the  imagination.  It  is  a  misera- 
ble thing  to  have  one's  mind  full  of  ugly  foul  forms 
painted  on  the  inner  walls  of  our  chamber  of  imagery, 
like  the  hideous  figures  in  some  heathen  temple,  where 
gods  of  lust  and  murder  look  out  from  every  inch  of 
space  on  the  walls. 


298  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xvii. 

(c)  All  wrong-doing  writes  indelible  records  on  the 
conscience.  It  does  so  partly  by  sophisticating  it — the 
sensibility  to  right  and  wrong  being  weakened  by  every 
evil  act,  as  a  cold  in  the  head  takes  away  the  sense  of 
smell.  It  brings  on  colour-blindness  to  some  extent. 
One  does  not  know  how  far  one  may  go  towards  '  Evil! 
be  thou  my  good  ' — or  how  far  towards  incapacity  of  dis- 
tinguishing evil.  But  at  all  events  the  tendency  of  each 
sin  is  in  that  direction.  So  conscience  may  become 
seared,  though  perhaps  never  so  completely  as  that  there 
are  no  intervals  when  it  speaks.  It  may  long  lie  dor- 
mant, as  Vesuvius  did,  till  great  trees  grow  on  the  floor 
of  the  crater,  but  all  the  while  the  communication  with 
the  central  fires  is  open,  and  one  day  they  will  burst 
out. 

The  writing  may  be  with  invisible  ink,  but  it  will  be 
legible  one  day.  So,  then,  all  this  solemn  writing  on 
the  heart  is  done  by  ourselves.  What  are  you  writing? 
There  is  a  presumption  in  it  of  a  future  retribution, 
when  you  will  have  to  read  your  autobiography,  with 
clearer  light  and  power  of  judging  yourselves.  At  any 
rate  there  is  retribution  now,  which  is  described  b}''  many 
metaphors,  such  as  sowing  and  reaping,  drinking  as  we 
have  brewed,  and  others — but  this  one  of  indelible  writ- 
ing is  not  the  least  striking. 

Sin  is  graven  deep  on  sinful  men's  worship. 

The  metaphor  here  is  striking  and  not  altogether  clear. 
The  question  rises  whether  the  altars  are  idolatrous  al- 
tars, or  Jehovah's.  If  the  former,  the  expression  may 
mean  simply  that  the  Jews'  idolatry,  which  was  their 
sin,  was  conspicuously  displayed  in  these  altars,  and 
had,  as  it  were,  its  most  flagrant  record  in  their  sacri- 
fices.    The  altar  was  the  centre  point  of  all  heathen  and 


V.  1]      SIN'S  WRITING:    ITS  ERASURE       299 

Old  Testament  worship,  and  altars  built  by  sinners  were 
the  most  conspicuous  evidences  of  their  sins. 

So  the  meaning  would  be  that  men's  sin  shapes  and 
culminates  in  their  religion ;  and  that  is  very  true,  and 
explains  many  of  the  profanations  and  abominations  of 
heathenism,  and  much  of  the  formal  worship  of  so-called 
Christianity. 

For  instance,  a  popular  religion  which  is  a  mere  De- 
ism, a  kind  of  vague  belief  in  a  providence,  and  in  a  fu- 
ture state  where  everybody  is  happy,  is  but  the  product 
of  men's  sin,  striking  out  of  Christianity  all  which  their 
sin  makes  unwelcome  in  it.  The  justice  of  God,  punish- 
ment, sinfulness  of  sin,  high  moral  tone,  are  all  gone. 
And  the  very  horns  of  their  altars  are  marked  with  the 
signs  of  the  worshippers'  sin. 

But  the  '  altars  '  may  be  God's  altars,  and  then  anoth- 
er idea  will  come  in.  The  horns  of  the  altar  were  the 
places  where  the  blood  of  the  sacrifice  was  smeared,  as 
token  of  its  offering  to  God.  They  were  then  a  part  of 
the  ritual  of  propitiation.  They  had,  no  doubt,  the  same 
meaning  in  the  heathen  ritual.  And  so  regarded,  the 
metaphor  means  that  a  sense  of  the  reality  of  sin  shapes 
sacrificial  religion. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  a  very  real  conviction  of 
sin  lies  at  the  foundation  of  much,  if  not  all,  of  the  sys- 
tem of  sacrifices.  And  it  is  a  question  well  worth  con- 
sidering whether  a  conviction  so  widespread  is  not  valid, 
and  whether  we  should  not  see  in  it  the  expression  of  a 
true  human  need  which  no  mere  culture,  or  the  like, 
will  supply. 

At  all  events,  altars  stand  as  witnesses  to  the  con- 
sciousness of  sin.  And  the  same  thought  may  be  ap- 
plied to  much  of  the  popular  religion  of  this  day.     It 


300  THE  BOOK  OF  JERJMIAH    [ch.  xvii 

may  be  ineffectual  and  shallow  but  it  bears  witness  to  a 
consciousness  of  evil.  So  its  existence  may  be  used  in 
order  to  urge  profounder  realisation  of  evil  on  men. 
You  come  to  worship,  you  join  in  confessions,  you  say 
'  miserable  sinners ' — do  you  mean  anything  by  it?  If 
all  that  be  true,  should  it  not  produce  a  deeper  impres- 
sion on  you? 

But  another  way  of  regarding  the  metaphor  is  this. 
The  horns  of  the  altar  were  to  be  touched  with  the  blood 
of  propitiation.  But  look!  the  blood  flows  down,  and 
after  it  has  trickled  away,  there,  deep  carven  on  the 
horns,  still  appears  the  sin,  i.e.  the  sin  is  not  expiated 
by  the  sinner's  sacrifice.  Jeremiah  is  then  echoing  Isa- 
iah's word,  '  Bring  no  more  vain  oblations. '  The  pic- 
ture gives  very  strikingly  the  hopelessness,  so  far  as 
men  are  concerned,  of  any  attempt  to  blot  out  this  rec- 
ord. It  is  like  the  rock-cut  cartouches  of  Egypt  on 
which  time  seems  to  have  no  effect.  There  they  abide 
deep  for  ever.  Nothing  that  we  can  do  can  efface  them. 
'  What  I  have  written,  I  have  written. '  Pen-knives  and 
detergents  that  we  can  use  are  all  in  vain. 

II.  Sin's  writing  may  be  erased,  and  another  put  in  its 
place. 

The  work  of  Christ,  made  ours  by  faith,  blots  it  out. 

(a)  Its  influence  on  conscience  and  the  sense  of  guilt. 
The  accusations  of  conscience  are  silenced.  A  red  line  is 
drawn  across  the  indictment,  or,  as  Colossians  has  it, 
it  is  '  nailed  to  the  cross. '  There  is  power  in  His  death 
to  set  us  free  from  the  debt  we  owe. 

(5)  Its  influence  on  memory.  Christ  does  not  bring 
oblivion,  but  yet  takes  away  the  remorse  of  remem- 
brance. Faith  in  Christ  makes  memory  no  longer  a 
record  which  we  blush  to  turn  over,  or  upon  which  we 


V.  1]     SIN'S  WRITING:    ITS  ERASURE       301 

gjoat  with  imaginative  delight  in  guilty  pleasures  past, 
but  a  record  of  our  shortcomings  that  humbles  us  with 
a  penitence  which  is  not  pain,  but  serves  as  a  beacon 
and  warning  for  the  time  to  come.  He  who  has  a  clear 
beam  of  memory  on  his  backward  track,  and  a  bright 
light  of  hope  on  his  forward  one,  will  steer  right. 

(c)  Its  influence  on  character. 

We  attain  new  hopes  and  tastes.  '  We  become  epis- 
tles of  Christ  known  and  read  of  all  men, '  like  palimp- 
sests, Homer  or  Ovid  written  over  with  the  New  Testa- 
ment gospels  or  epistles. 

Christ's  work  is  twofold,  erasure  and  rewriting.  For 
the  one,  '  I  will  blot  out  as  a  cloud  their  transgressions. ' 
None  but  He  can  remove  these.  For  the  other,  '  I  will 
put  My  law  into  their  minds  and  will  write  it  on  their 
hearts.'  He  can  impress  all  holy  desires  on,  and  can  put 
His  great  love  and  His  mighty  spirit  into,  our  hearts. 

So  give  your  hearts  to  Him.  They  are  all  scrawled 
over  with  hideous  and  wicked  writing  that  has  sunk 
deep  into  their  substance.  Graven  as  if  on  rock  are  your 
sins  in  your  character.  Your  worship  and  sacrifices  will 
not  remove  them,  but  Jesus  Christ  can.  He  died  that 
you  might  be  forgiven.  He  lives  that  you  may  be  puri- 
fied. Trust  yourself  to  Him,  and  lean  all  your  sinful- 
ness on  His  atonement  and  sanctifying  power,  and  the 
foul  words  and  bad  thoughts  that  have  been  scored  so 
deep  into  your  nature  will  be  erased,  and  His  own  hand 
will  trace  on  the  page,  poor  and  thin  though  it  be,  which 
has  been  whitened  by  His  blood,  the  fair  letters  and 
shapes  of  His  own  likeness.  Do  not  let  your  hearts  be 
the  devil's  copybooks  for  all  evil  things  to  scrawl  their 
names  there,  as  boys  do  on  the  walls,  but  spread  them 
before  Him,  and  ask  Him  to  make  them  clean  and  write 


302  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH    [ch.  xvii. 

upon  them  His  new  name,  indicating  that  you  now  be- 
long to  another,  as  a  new  owner  writes  his  name  on  a 
book  that  he  has  bought. 

THE   HEATH   IN  THE   DESERT  AND   THE 
TEEE  BY  THE  RIVER 

'He  shall  be  like  the  heath  in  the  desert,  and  shall  not  see  when  good 
Cometh;  but  shall  inhabit  the  parched  places  in  the  wilderness,  a  salt  land 
and  not  inhabited.  .  .  .  He  shall  be  as  a  tree  planted  by  the  waters,  and 
that  spreadeth  out  her  roots  by  the  river,  and  shall  not  see  when  heat 
oometh,  but  her  leaf  shall  be  green;  and  shall  not  be  careful  in  the  year 
of  drought,  neither  shall  cease  from  yielding  fruit.' — Jer.  xvii.  6,  8. 

The  prophet  here  puts  before  us  two  highly  finished  pic- 
tures. In  the  one,  the  hot  desert  stretches  on  all  sides. 
The  fierce  '  sunbeams  like  swords '  slay  every  green 
thing.  The  salt  particles  in  the  soil  glitter  in  the  light. 
No  living  creature  breaks  the  melancholy  solitude.  It  is 
a  '  waste  land  where  no  one  came,  or  hath  come  since 
the  making  of  the  world,'  Here  and  there  a  stunted, 
grey,  prickly  shrub  struggles  to  live,  and  just  manages 
not  to  die.  But  it  has  no  grace  of  leaf,  nor  profitable- 
ness of  fruit ;  and  it  only  serves  to  make  the  desolation 
more  desolate. 

The  other  carries  us  to  some  brimming  river,  where 
everything  lives  because  water  has  come.  The  pictures 
are  coloured  by  Eastern  experience.  For  in  those  lands 
more  than  beneath  our  humid  skies  and  weaker  sun- 
shine, the  presence  or  absence  of  running  water  makes 
the  difference  between  barrenness  and  fertility.  Dip- 
ping their  boughs  in  the  sparkling  current,  and  driving 
their  roots  through  the  moist  soil,  the  bordering  trees 
lift  aloft  their  pride  of  foliage  and  bear  fruits  in  their 
season. 

So,  says  Jeremiah,  the  two  pictures  represent  two  sets 
of  men ;  the  one,  he  who  diverts  from  their  true  object 


vs.  6,8]        HEAT  IN  THE  DESERT  303 

his  heart-capacities  of  love  and  trust,  and  clings  to  crea- 
tures and  to  men,  '  making  flesh  his  arm  and  departing 
from  the  living  God  ' ;  the  other,  he  who  leans  the  whole 
weight  of  his  needs  and  cares  and  sins  and  sorrows  upon 
God.  We  can  make  choice  of  which  shall  be  the  object 
of  our  trust;  and  according  as  we  choose  the  one  or  the 
other,  the  experience  of  these  vivid  pictures  will  be  ours. 

Let  me  -  briefly,  then,  draw  out  the  points  of  contrast 
in  these  two  companion  sketches. 

I.  Th'e  one  is  in  the  desert,  the  other  by  the  river. 

Unde/rneath  the  pictures  there  lies  this  thought,  that 
the  dir«^ction  of  a  man's  trust  determines  the  whole  cast 
of  his  )life,  because  it  determines,  as  it  were,  the  soil  in 
which  he  grows.  We  can  alter  our  habitat.  The  plant 
isHxec'l;  but  '  I  saw  men  as  trees  ' — yes!  but  as  '  trees 
walking, '  We  can  walk,  and  can  settle  where  we  shall 
be  roofed  and  whence  we  shall  draw  our  inspiration,  our 
confidejince,  our  security.  The  man  that  chooses — for  it 
is  a  m  latter  of  choice — to  trust  in  any  creature  thereby 
wills,  ^though  he  does  not  know  it,  that  he  shall  dwell  in 
a  '  salb  land  and  not  inhabited. '  The  man  that  chooses 
to  caF^t  his  whole  self  into  the  arms  of  God,  and  in  a  par- 
oxysm of  self -distrust  to  realise  the  divine  helpfulness 
and  presence,  that  man  will  soon  know  that  he  is  '  plant- 
ed by-  the  river. ' 

Now,  the  poor,  little  dusty  shrub  in  the  desert,  whose 
very-  leaves  have  been  modified  into  prickles,  is  fit  for  the 
desort,  and  is  as  much  at  home  there  as  are  the  willows 
by  the  water-courses  with  their  lush  vegetation  in  their 
moist  bed.  But  if  a  man  makes  that  fatal  choice  which 
so  many  of  us  are  making,  of  shutting  out  God  from  his 
corifidence  and  his  love,  and  squandering  these  upon 
earth  and  upon  creatures,  he  is  as  fatally  out  of  harmony 


304  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xvii. 

with  the  place  which  he  has  chosen  for  himself,  and  as 
much  away  from  his  natural  soil,  as  a  tropical  plant 
would  be  amongst  the  snows  of  Arctic  glaciers,  or  a  wa- 
ter-lily in  the  Sahara. 

Considering  all  that  I  am  and  need,  wihat  and  where 
is  my  true  home  and  the  soil  in  which  l\can  grow  se- 
curely, and  fear  no  evil?  Brethren,  there  is  only  one 
answer  to  that  question.  The  very  make'^of  a  man's 
spirit  points  to  God,  and  to  God  alone,  as  the  natural 
place  for  him  to  root  and  grow  in.  You,  I,  tl.ie  poorest 
and  humblest  of  men,  will  never  be  right,  neveij"  feel  that 
we  are  in  our  native  soil,  and  compassed  with  ti^ie  appro- 
priate surroundings,  until  we  have  laid  our  hearts  and 
our  hands  on  the  breast  of  God,  and  rested  oui  'selves  on 
Him.  Not  more  surely  do  gills  and  fins  proc.  aim  ^hat 
the  creature  that  has  them  is  meant  to  roami  throug'i 
the  boundless  ocean,  nor  the  anatomy  and  wing-'S  of  the 
bird  witness  more  plainly  to  its  destination  to  so^r  in  the 
open  heavens  than  the  make  of  your  spirits  testi:(fies  that 
God,  and  none  less  or  lower,  is  your  portion.  We  are 
built  for  God,  and  unless  we  recognise  and  act  upon  that 
conviction,  we  are  like  the  prickly  shrub  in  the  desert, 
whatever  good  may  be  around  us ;  and  if  we  do  recog- 
nise and  act  upon  it,  whatever  parched  ground  may  seem 
to  stretch  on  all  sides,  there  will  be  soil  moist  enouj^h  for 
us  to  draw  refreshment  and  vitality  from  it. 

If  that  be  so,  brethren,  what  insanity  the  lives  ofl  mul- 
titudes of  us  are!  As  well  might  bees  try  to  suck  honey 
from  a  vase  of  wax  flowers  as  we  to  draw  what  we  need 
from  creatures,  from  ourselves,  from  visible  and  niate- 
rial  things. 

What  would  you  business  men  think  of  some  one  who 
went  and  sold  out  all  his  stock  of  Government  or  other 


vs.  6, 8]         HEAT  IN  THE  DESERT  305 

sound  securities,  and  then  flung  the  proceeds  down  a 
hole  in  South  Africa,  out  of  which  no  gold  will  ever 
come?  He  would  be  about  as  wise  as  are  the  people  who 
fancy  that  these  hearts  of  theirs  will  ever  be  at  home 
except  they  find  a  home  in  God. 

Where  else  will  you  find  love  that  will  never  fail,  nor 
change,  nor  die?  Where  else  will  you  find  an  object  for 
the  intellect  that  will  yield  inexhaustible  material  of  con- 
templation and  delight?  Where  else  infallible  direction 
for  the  will?  Where  else  shall  weakness  find  unfailing 
strength,  or  sorrow,  adequate  consolation,  or  hope,  cer- 
tain fulfilment,  or  fear,  a  safe  hiding-place?  Nowhere 
besides.  Oh!  then,  brethren,  do,  I  beseech  you,  turn 
away  your  heart's  confidence  and  love  from  earth  and 
creatures ;  for  until  the  roots  of  your  life  go  down  into 
God,  and  you  draw  your  life  from  Hira,  you  are  not  in 
your  right  soil. 

II.  The  one  can  take  in  no  real  good ;  the  other  can 
fear  no  evil. 

One  verse  of  our  text  says,  '  He  shall  not  see  when 
good  Cometh  ' ;  the  other  one,  according  to  our  Author- 
ised Version,  '  He  shall  not  see  when  heat  cometh. '  But 
a  very  slight  alteration  of  one  word  in  the  original  gives 
a  better  reading,  which  is  adopted  in  the  Eevised  Ver- 
sion, where  we  have,  '  and  shall  not  fear  when  fceat 
cometh. '  That  alteration  is  obviously  correct,  because 
there  follows  immediately  a  parallel  clause,  '  and  shall 
not  be  careful ' — or  anxious — '  in  the  year  of  drought. ' 
In  both  these  clauses  the  metaphor  of  the  tree  is  a  little 
let  go ;  and  the  man  who  is  signified  by  it  comes  rather 
more  to  the  front  than  in  the  remainder  of  the  picture. 
But  that  is  quite  natural. 

So  look  at  these  two  simple  thoughts  for  a  moment. 


306  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xvii. 

He  whose  trust  is  set  upon  creatures  is  thereby  disabled 
from  recognising  what  is  his  highest  good.  His  judg- 
ment is  perverted.  There  is  the  explanation  of  the  fact 
that  men  are  contented  with  the  partial  and  evanescent 
blessedness  that  may  be  drawn  from  human  loves  and 
companionship  and  material  things.  It  is  because  they 
have  gone  blind,  and  the  false  direction  of  their  confi- 
dence has  put  out  their  eyes.  And  if  any  of  my  hearers 
are  living  careless  about  God,  and  all  that  comes  from 
Him,  and  perfectly  contented  with  that  which  they  find 
in  this  visible,  diurnal  sphere,  that  is  not  because  they 
have  the  good  which  they  need,  but  because  they  do  not 
know  that  good  when  they  see  it,  and  have  lost  the  power  of 
discerning  what  is  really  for  their  benefit  and  blessedness. 

There  is  nothing  sadder  in  this  world  than  the  conspir- 
acy into  which  men  seem  to  have  entered  to  ignore  the 
highest  good,  and  to  profess  themselves  contented  with 
the  lowest.  I  remember  a  rough  parable  of  Luther's — 
the  roughness  of  which  may  be  pardoned  for  the  force 
and  vividness  of  it — which  bears  on  this  matter.  He 
tells  how  a  company  of  swine  were  offered  all  manner  of 
dainty  and  refined  foods,  and  how,  with  a  unanimous 
swinish  grunt,  they  answered  that  they  preferred  the 
warm,  reeking  '  grains  '  from  the  mash-tub.  The  illus- 
tration is  coarse,  but  it  is  not  an  unfair  representation  of 
the  choice  that  some  of  us  are  making. 

'  He  cannot  see  when  good  cometh. '  God  comes,  and 
I  would  rather  have  some  more  money.  God  comes,  and 
I  prefer  some  woman's  love.  God  comes,  and  I  would 
rather  have  a  prosperous  business.  God  comes,  and  I 
prefer  beer.  So  I  might  go  the  whole  round.  The  man 
that  cannot  see  good 'when  it  is  there  before  his  face,  be- 
cause the  false  direction  of  his  confidence  has  blinded  his 


vs.  6, 8]         HEAT  IN  THE  DESERT  307 

eyes,  cannot  open  his  heart  to  it.  It  comes,  but  it  does 
not  come  in.  It  surrounds  him,  but  it  does  not  enter 
into  him.  You  are  plunged,  as  it  were,  in  a  sea  of  pos- 
sible felicity,  which  will  be  yours  if  your  heart's  direc- 
tion is  towards  God,  and  the  surrounding  ocean  of  bless- 
edness has  as  little  power  to  fill  your  heart  as  the  sea 
has  to  enter  some  hermetically  sealed  flask,  dropped  into 
the  middle  of  the  Atlantic.  '  He  cannot  see  when  good 
cometh. '     Blind,  blind,  blind!  are  multitudes  of  us. 

Turn  to  the  other  side.  '  He  shall  not  fear  when  heat 
cometh, '  which  is  evil  in  those  Eastern  lands,  '  and  shall 
not  be  careful  in  the  year  of  drought. '  The  tree,  that 
sends  its  roots  towards  a  river  that  never  fails,  does  not 
suffer  when  all  the  land  is  parched.  The  man  who  has 
driven  his  roots  into  God,  and  is  drawing  from  that  deep 
source  what  is  needful  for  his  life  and  fertility,  has  no 
occasion  to  dread  any  evil,  nor  to  gnaw  his  heart  with 
anxiety  as  to  what  he  is  to  do  in  parched  days.  Troubles 
may  come,  but  they  do  not  go  deeper  than,  the  surface. 
It  may  be  all  cracked  and  caked  and  dry,  '  a  thirsty  land 
where  no  water  is, '  and  yet  deep  down  there  may  be 
moisture  and  coolness. 

Faith,  which  is  trust,  and  fear  are  opposite  poles.  If 
a  man  has  the  one,  he  can  scarcely  have  the  other  in 
vigorous  operation.  He  that  has  his  trust  set  upon  God 
does  not  need  to  dread  anything  except  the  weakening 
or  the  paralysing  of  that  trust ;  for  so  long  as  it  lasts  it 
is  a  talisman  which  changes  evil  into  good,  the  true  phi- 
losopher's stone  which  transmutes  the  baser  metals  into 
gold;  and,  so  long  as  it  lasts,  God's  shield  is  round  him 
and  no  evil  can  befall  him. 

Brethren,  if  our  trust  is  in  God,  it  is  unworthy  of  it 
and  of  us  to  fear,  for  all  things  are  His,  and  there  is  no 


308  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xvii. 

evil  in  evil  as  men  call  it,  so  long  as  it  does  not  draw 
away  our  hearts  from  our  Father  and  our  Hope.  There- 
fore, he  that  fears  let  him  trust ;  he  that  trusts  let  him 
not  be  afraid.  He  that  sets  his  heart  and  anchors  his 
hopes  of  safety  on  any  except  God,  let  him  be  afraid,  for 
he  is  in  a  very  stern  world,  and  if  he  is  not  fearful  he  is 
a  fool. 

So  the  direction  of  our  trust,  if  it  is  right,  shuts  all 
real  evil  out  from  us,  and  if  it  is  wrong,  shuts  us  out 
from  all  real  good. 

III.  The  one  is  bare,  the  other  clothed  with  the  beauty 
of  foliage. 

The  word  which  is  translated  'heat '  has  a  close  con- 
nection with,  if  it  does  not  literally  mean,  '  naked '  or 
*  bare.'  Probably,  as  I  have  said,  it  designates  some  in- 
conspicuously leaved  desert  shrub,  the  particular  species 
not  being  ascertainable  or  a  matter  of  any  consequence. 
Leaves,  in  Scripture,  have  a  recognised  symbolical  mean- 
ing. '  Nothing  but  leaves '  in  the  story  of  the  fig-tree 
meant  only  beautiful  outward  appearance,  with  no  cor- 
responding outcome  of  goodness  of  heart,  in  the  shape 
of  fruit.  So  I  may  venture  here  to  draw  a  distinction 
between  leafage  and  fruit,  and  say  that  the  one  points 
rather  to  a  man's  character  and  conduct  as  lovely  in  ap- 
pearance, and  in  the  other  as  morally  good  and  profitable. 

This  is  the  lesson  of  these  two  clauses — misdirected 
confidence  in  creatures  strips  a  man  of  much  beauty  of 
character,  and  true  faith  in  God  adorns  a  soul  with  a 
leafy  vesture  of  loveliness.  Now,  I  have  no  doubt  that 
there  start  up  in  your  minds  at  once  two  objections  to 
that  statement :  first,  that  a  great  many  godless  men  do 
present  fair  and  attractive  features  of  character ;  and 
secondly,  that  a  great  many  Christian  men  do  not.     I 


vs.  6, 8]         HEAT  IN  THE  DESERT  309 

admit  both  things  frankly,  and  yet  I  say  that,  for  the 
highest  good,  the  perfect  crowning  beauty  of  any  human 
character,  this  is  needed,  that  it  should  cling  to  God. 
'  Whatsoever  things  are  lovely  and  of  good  report '  lack 
their  supreme  excellence,  the  diamond  on  the  top  of  the 
royal  crown,  the  glittering  gold  on  the  summit  of  the 
campanile,  unless  there  is  in  them  a  distinct  reference  to 
God. 

I  believe  that  I  am  speaking  to  some  who  would  not 
profess  themselves  to  be  religious  men,  and  who  yet  are 
truly  desirous  of  cultivating  in  their  character  the  Fair 
and  the  Good.  To  them  I  would  venture  to  say — breth- 
ren, you  will  never  be  so  completely,  so  refinedly,  so 
truly,  graceful  as  you  might  be,  unless  the  roots  of  your 
character  '  are  hid  with  Christ  in  God. ' 

*A  servant  with  this  clause 
Makes  drudgery  divine,' 

said  good  old  George  Herbert.  And  any  act,  however 
humble,  on  which  the  light  from  God  falls,  will  gleam 
with  a  lustre  else  unattainable,  like  some  piece  of  broken 
glass  in  the  furrows  of  a  ploughed  field. 

Sure  I  am  that  if  we  Christian  people  had  a  deeper 
faith,  we  should  have  fairer  lives.  And  I  beseech  you, 
my  fellow -believers  in  Jesus  Christ,  not  to  supply  the 
other  side  with  arguments  against  Christianity,  by  show- 
ing that  it  is  possible  for  a  man  to  say  and  to  suppose  that 
he  sets  his  heart  on  God,  and  yet  to  bear  but  little  leaf- 
age of  beauty  or  grace  of  character.  Goodness  is  beauty ; 
beauty  is  goodness.  Both  are  to  be  secured  by  commu- 
nion and  union  with  Him  who  is  fairer  than  the  children 
of  men.  Dip  your  roots  into  the  fountain  of  life — it  is 
the  fountain  of  beauty  as  well  as  of  life,  and  your  lives 
willbe  green. 


310  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xvii. 

IV.  Lastly,  the  one  is  sterile,  the  other  fruitful. 

I  admit,  as  before,  that  this  statement  often  seems  to 
be  contradicted,  both  by  the  good  works  of  godless  men, 
and  by  the  bad  works  of  godly  ones.  But  for  all  that,  I 
would  urge  you  to  consider  that  the  only  works  of  men 
worth  calling  *  fruit, '  if  regard  is  had  to  their  capacities, 
relations,  and  obligations,  are  those  done  as  the  outcome 
and  consequence  of  hearts  trusting  in  the  Lord.  The 
rest  of  the  man's  activities  may  be  busy  and  multiplied, 
and,  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  godless  morality,  many 
may  be  fair  and  good ;  but  if  we  think  of  him  as  being 
destined,  as  his  chief  end,  '  to  glorify  God,  and  (so)  to 
enjoy  Him  for  ever, '  what  correspondence  between  such 
a  creature  and  acts  that  are  done  without  reference  to 
God  can  there  ever  be?  They  are  not  worth  calling 
*  fruit. '  At  the  most  they  are  '  wild  grapes, '  and  there 
comes  a  time  when  they  will  be  tested  and  the  axe  laid 
to  the  root  of  the  trees,  and  these  imperfect  deeds  will 
shrivel  up  and  disappear. 

Trust  will  certainly  be  fruitful.  In  so  saying  we  are 
upon  Christian  ground,  which  declares  that  the  out- 
come of  faith  is  conduct  in  conformity  with  the  will  of 
Him  in  whom  we  trust,  and  that  the  productive  princi- 
ple of  all  good  in  man  is  confidence  in  God  manifest  to 
us  in  Jesus  Christ, 

So  we  have  not  to  begin  with  work ;  we  have  to  begin 
with  character.  '  Make  the  tree  good, '  and  its  fruit  will 
be  good.  Faith  will  give  power  to  bring  forth  such 
fruit ;  and  faith  will  set  agoing  the  motive  of  love  which 
will  produce  it.  Thus,  dear  brethren,  we  come  back  to 
this — the  prime  thing  about  a  man  is  the  direction  which 
his  trust  takes.  Is  it  to  God?  Then  the  tree  is  good; 
and  its  fruit  will  be  good  too.     If  you  will  trust  your- 


V.12]        A  SOUL  GAZING  ON  GOD  311 

selves  to  '  God  manifest  in  the  flesh, '  to  Jesus  Christ  and 
His  work  for  you  and  in  you,  then  you  will  be  as  if 
'  planted  by  the  rivers  of  water,''  you  will  be  able  to  re- 
ceive into  yourselves,  and  will  receive,  all  good,  and  be 
masters  of  all  evil,  will  exhibit  graces  of  character  else 
impossible,  and  will  bring  forth  '  fruit  that  shall  remain. ' 
Separated  from  Him  we  are  nothing,  and  can  bring  forth 
nothing  that  will  stand  the  light  of  that  last  moment. 

Brother,  turn  your  trust  to  that  dear  Lord,  and  then 
you  will  have  your  '  fruit  unto  holiness,  and  the  end 
shall  be  everlasting  life, '  when  the  transplanting  season 
comes,  and  they  that  have  been  '  planted  in  the  house  of 
the  Lord  '  below  shall  '  flourish  in  the  courts  of  our  God  ' 
above,  and  grow  more  green  and  fruitful,  beside  the 
'  river  of  the  water  of  life  that  proceedeth  from  the 
throne  of  God  and  of  the  Lamb. ' 


A  SOUL  GAZING  ON  GOD 

'A  glorious  high  throne  from  the  beginning  is  the  place  of  our  sanctu- 
ary.'— Jer.  xvii.  12. 

I  MUST  begin  by  a  word  or  two  of  explanation  as  to  the 
language  of  this  passage.  The  word  '  is '  is  a  supple- 
ment, and  most  probably  it  ought  to  be  omitted,  and  the 
verse  treated  as  being,  not  a  statement,  but  a  series  of 
exclamations.  The  next  verse  runs  thus,  '  0  Lord!  the 
hope  of  Israel,  all  that  forsake  Thee  shall  be  ashamed  ' ; 
and  the  most  natural  and  forcible  understanding  of  the 
words  of  my  text  is  reached  by  connecting  them  with 
these  following  clauses :  '  0  Lord !  the  hope  of  Israel, ' 
and,  regarding  the  whole  as  one  long  exclamation  of 
adoring  contemplation,  *A  glorious  throne,'  or   'Thou 


312  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xvii. 

glorious  throne,  high  from  the  beginning ;  the  place  of 
our  sanctuary,  O  Lord!  the  hope  of  Israel.' 

I.  If  we  look  at  the  words  so,  we  have  here,  to  begin 
with,  a  wonderful  vision  of  what  God  is. 

'A  glorious  throne,'  or,  as  the  original  has  it,  'a  throne 
of  glory,' — which  is  not  quite  the  same  thing — 'high 
from  the  beginning,  the  place  of  our  sanctuary. '  There 
are  three  clauses.  Now  they  all  seem  to  me  to  have 
reference  to  the  Temple  in  Jerusalem,  which  is  taken, 
by  a  very  natural  figure  of  speech,  as  a  kind  of  suggest- 
ive description  of  Him  who  is  worshipped  there.  There 
is  the  same  kind  of  use  of  the  name  of  a  place  to  stand 
for  the  person  who  occupies  or  inhabits  it,  in  many 
familiar  phrases.  For  instance,  '  The  Sublime  Porte  '  is 
properly  the  name  of  a  lofty  gateway  which  belonged  to 
the  palace  in  Constantinople,  and  so  has  come  to  mean 
the  Turkish  Government  if  Government  it  can  be  called. 
So  we  talk  of  the  '  Papal  See  '  having  done  this  or  that, 
and  scarcely  remember  that  a  '  see  '  is  a  bishop's  seat, 
or,  again,  the  decision  of  '  the  Chair '  is  final  in  the 
House  of  Commons.  Or,  if  you  will  accept  a  purely 
municipal  parallel,  if  any  one  were  told  that  '  the  Town 
Hall '  had  issued  a  certain  order,  he  would  know  that 
our  authorities,  the  Mayor  and  Corporation,  had  decreed 
so  and  so.  So,  in  precisely  the  same  way  here,  the 
prophet  takes  the  outward  facts  of  the  Temple  as  sym- 
bolising great  and  blessed  spiritual  thoughts  of  the  God 
that  filled  the  Temple  with  His  own  lustre. 

'A  glorious  throne ' — that  is  grand,  but  that  is  not 
what  Jeremiah  means — 'A  throne  of  glory  '  is  the  true 
rendering.  And  to  what  does  that  refer?  Now,  in  the 
greater  number  of  cases,  you  will  find  that  in  the  Old 
Testament,  where  '  glory '  is  ascribed  to  God,  the  word 


V.  12]        A  SOUL  GAZING  ON  GOD  313 

has  a  very  distinct  and  specific  meaning,  viz.  ttie  light 
which  was  afterwards  called  the  '  Shekinah, '  and  dwelt 
between  the  cherubim,  and  was  the  symbol  of  the  divine 
presence  and  the  assurance  that  that  presence  would  be 
self-revealing  and  would  manifest  Himself  to  His  peo- 
ple. So  here  the  throne  on  which  glory  rests  is  what  we 
call  the  mercy -seat  within  the  veil,  where,  above  the 
propitiatory  table  on  which  once  a  year  the  High  Priest 
sprinkled  the  blood  of  sacrifice,  and  beneath  which  were 
shut  up  the  tables  of  the  covenant  which  constituted  the 
bond  between  God  and  Israel,  shone  the  Light  in  the 
midst  of  the  darkness  of  the  enclosed  inner  shrine,  the 
token  of  the  divine  presence.  The  throned  glory,  the 
glory  that  reigns  and  rules  as  King  in  Israel,  is  the  idea 
of  the  words  before  us.  It  is  the  same  throne  that  a 
later  writer  in  the  New  Testament  speaks  of  when  he 
says,  '  Let  us  come  boldly  to  the  Throne  of  Grace. '  For 
that  light  of  a  manifested  divine  presence  was  no  malign 
lustre  that  blinded  or  slew  those  who  gazed  upon  it,  but 
though  no  eye  but  that  of  the  High  Priest  dared  of  old 
to  look,  yet  he,  the  representative  and,  as  it  were,  the 
concentration  of  the  collective  Israel,  could  stand,  un- 
shrinking and  unharmed,  before  that  piercing  light,  be- 
cause he  bore  in  his  hand  the  blood  of  sacrifice  and  sprin- 
kled it  on  the  mercy-seat.  So  was  it  of  old,  but  now 
we  all  can  draw  near,  through  the  rent  veil,  and  walk 
rejoicingly  in  the  light  of  the  Lord.  His  glory  is  grace; 
His  grace  is  glory. 

This,  then,  is  the  first  of  Jeremiah's  great  thoughts  of 
God,  and  it  means — '  The  Lord  God  omnipotent  reign- 
eth, '  there  is  none  else  but  He,  and  His  will  runs  author- 
itative and  supreme  into  all  corners  of  the  universe.  But 
it  is  '  glory  '  that  is  throned.     That  is  equivalent  to  the 


S14  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xvii. 

declaration  that  our  God  has  never  spoken  in  secret,  in 
the  dark  places  of  the  earth,  nor  said  to  any  seeking 
heart,  '  Seek  ye  My  face  in  vain. '  For  the  light  which 
shone  in  that  Holy  Place  as  His  symbol,  had  for  its  mes- 
sage to  Israel  the  great  thought  that,  as  the  sun  pours 
out  its  lustre  into  all  the  corners  of  its  system,  so  He,  by 
the  self-communication  which  is  inherent  in  His  very 
nature,  manifests  Himself  to  every  gazing  eye,  and 
is  a  God  who  is  Light,  'and  in  whom  is  no  darkness 
at  all.' 

But  reigning  glory  is  also  redeeming  grace.  For  the 
light  of  the  bright  cloud,  which  is  the  glory  of  the  Lord, 
shines  still,  with  no  thunder  in  its  depths,  nor  tempests 
in  its  bosom,  above  the  mercy-seat,  where  spreads  the 
blood  of  sprinkling  by  which  Israel's  sins  are  all  taken 
away.  Well  may  the  prophet  lift  up  his  heart  in  ador- 
ing wonder,  and  translate  the  outward  symbol  into  this 
great  word,  '  The  throne  of  glory ;  Jehovah,  the  hope  of 
Israel. ' 

Then  the  next  clause  is,  I  think,  equally  intelligible 
by  the  same  process  of  interpretation — '  High  from  the 
beginning. '  It  was  a  piece  of  the  patriotic  exaggeration 
of  Israel's  prophets  and  psalmists  that  they  made  much 
of  the  little  hill  upon  which  the  Temple  was  set.  We 
read  of  the  '  hill  of  the  Lord's  house '  being  '  exalted 
above  the  tops  of  the  mountains. '  We  read  of  it  being 
a  high  hill,  '  as  the  hill  of  Bashan. '  And  though  to  the 
eye  of  sense  it  is  a  very  modest  elevation,  to  the  eye  of 
faith  it  was  symbolical  of  much.  Jeremiah  felt  it  to  be 
a  material  type,  both  of  the  elevation  and  of  the  stable 
duration  of  the  God  whom  he  would  commend  to  Israel's 
and  to  all  men's  trust.  'High  from  the  beginning,'  sep- 
arated  from  all  creatural  limitation  and  lowness,  He 


V.  12]        A  SOUL  GAZING  ON  GOD  315 

whose  name  is  the  Most  High,  and  on  whose  level  no 
other  being  can  stand,  towers  above  the  lowness  of  the 
loftiest  creature,  and  from  that  inaccessible  height  He 
sends  down  His  voice,  like  the  trumpet  from  amidst  the 
darkness  of  Sinai,  proclaiming,  '  I  am  God,  and  there  is 
none  beside  Me. '  Yet  while  thus  '  holy  ' — that  is,  sepa- 
rate from  creatures — He  makes  communion  with  Himself 
possible  to  us,  and  draws  near  to  us  in  Christ,  that  we  in 
Christ  may  be  made  nigh  to  Him. 

And  the  loftiness  involves,  necessarily,  timeless  and 
changeless  Being;  so  that  we  can  turn  to  Him,  and  feel 
Him  to  be  '  the  same  yesterday,  and  to-day,  and  for 
ever.'  No  words  are  needed,  and  no  human  words  are 
anything  but  tawdry  attempts  to  elaborate,  which  only 
result  in  weakening,  these  two  great  thoughts.  '  High 
— from  the  beginning. ' 

The  last  of  this  series  of  symbols,  even  more  plainly 
than  the  other  two,  refers  originally  to  the  Temple  upon 
the  hill  of  Zion ;  and  symbolically,  to  the  God  who  filled 
the  Temple,  He  is  '  the  place  of  our  sanctuary. '  That 
is  as  though  the  prophet  would  point,  as  the  wonderful 
climax  of  all,  to  the  fact  that  He  of  whom  the  former 
things  were  true  should  yet  be  accessible  to  our  worship; 
that,  if  I  might  so  say,  our  feet  could  tread  the  courts 
of  the  great  Temple ;  and  we  draw  near  to  Him  who  is 
so  far  above  the  loftiest,  and  separate  from  all  the  mag- 
nificences which  Himself  has  made,  and  who  yet  is  '  our 
sanctuary, '  and  accessible  to  our  worship. 

Ay!  and  more  than  that — '  Lord!  Thou  hast  been  our 
dwelling-place  in  all  generations. '  In  old  days  the  Tem- 
ple was  more  than  a  place  of  worship.  It  was  a  place 
where  a  man  coming  had,  according  to  ancient  custom, 
guest  rights  with  God ;  and  if  he  came  into  the  Temple 


316  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xvii. 

of  the  Most  High  as  to  an  asylum,  he  dwelt  there  safe 
and  secure  from  avengers  or  foes. 

'  The  place  of  our  sanctuary, '  then,  declares  that  God 
Himself,  like  some  ancestral  dwelling-place  in  which 
generation  after  generation  of  fathers  and  children  have 
abode,  whence  they  have  been  carried,  and  where  their 
children  still  live,  is  to  all  generations  their  home  and 
their  fortress.  The  place  of  our  sanctuary  implies  access 
to  the  inaccessibly  High,  communion  with  the  infinitely 
Separate,  security  and  abode  in  God  Himself.  He  that 
dwelleth  in  God  dwelleth  in  peace.  These,  then,  are  the 
points  of  the  prophet's  vision  of  God. 

II.  Note,  further,  the  soul  rapt  in  meditation  and  this 
vision  of  God. 

To  me,  this  long-drawn-out  series  of  linked  clauses 
without  grammatical  connection,  this  succession  of  odor- 
ing  exclamations  of  rapture,  wonder,  and  praise,  is  very 
striking.  It  suggests  the  manner  in  which  we  should 
vivify  all  our  thoughts  of  God,  by  turning  them  into 
material  for  devout  reverence ;  awe-struck,  considering 
meditation.  There  is  nothing  told  us  in  the  Bible  about 
God  simply  in  order  that  we  may  know  it.  It  is  all 
meant  to  be  fuel  to  the  fire  of  our  divine  affection ;  to 
kindle  in  us  the  sentiments  of  faith  and  love  and  raptur- 
ous adoration.  It  is  easy  to  know  the  theology  of  the 
Old  and  the  New  Testaments,  and  a  man  may  rattle  over 
the  catalogue  of  the  divine  '  attributes, '  as  they  are 
called,  with  perfect  accuracy,  and  never  be  a  hair  the 
better  for  knowing  all  of  them.  So  I  urge,  on  you  and 
on  myself,  the  necessity  of  warming  our  thoughts  and 
kindling  our  conceptions  of  what  God  is  until  they  melt 
us  into  fluidity  and  adoration  and  love. 

I  believe  that  there  are  few  things  which  we  Chris- 


V.  12]        A  SOUL  GAZING  ON  GOD  317 

tian  people  more  lack  in  this  generation,  and  by  the  lack 
of  which  we  suffer  more,  than  the  comparative  decay  of 
the  good  old  habit  of  frequent  and  patient  meditation  on 
the  things  that  we  most  surely  believe.  We  are  so  busy 
in  adding  to  our  stock  of  knowledge,  in  following  out  to 
their  latest  consequence  the  logical  effects  of  our  Chris- 
tianity, and  in  defending  it,  or  seeking  to  be  familiar 
with  the  defences,  against  modern  assaults,  or  in  prac- 
tical work  on  its  behalf,  that  the  last  thing  that  a  great 
many  of  us  do  is  to  feed  upon  the  truth  which  we  know 
already.  We  should  be  like  ruminant  animals  who  first 
crop  the  grass — which,  being  interpreted,  means,  get 
Scripture  truth  into  our  heads — and  then  chew  the  cud, 
which  being  interpreted  is,  then  put  these  truths  through 
a  second  process  by  meditation  on  them,  so  that  they  may 
turn  into  nourishment  and  make  flesh.  '  He  that  eateth 
Me, '  said  Jesus  Christ  (and  He  used  there  the  word 
which  is  specially  applied  to  rumination),  '  shall  live  by 
Me. '  It  does  us  no  good  to  know  that  God  is  '  the  Throne 
of  Glory,  high  from  the  beginning,  the  place  of  our  sanc- 
tuary, '  unless  we  turn  theology  into  devotion  by  medi- 
tation upon  it.  '  Suffer  the  word  of  exhortation  ' — in 
busy,  great  communities  like  ours,  where  we  are  all 
driven  so  hard,  there  is  need  for  some  voices  some- 
times to  be  lifted  up  in  pressing  upon  Christian  people 
the  duty  of  quiet  rumination  upon  the  truths  that  they 
have. 

III.  We  may  see  in  our  text,  further,  the  meditative 
soul  going  out  to  grasp  God  thus  revealed,  as  its  portion 
and  hope. 

As  I  have  already  said,  the  text  is  best  understood  as 
part  of  a  series  of  exclamations  which  extends  into  the 
following  verse.     If  we  take  account  of  the  whole  series, 


318  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xvii. 

and  regard  the  subsequent  part  of  it  as  led  up  to,  by  the 
part  which  is  our  text,  we  get  an  important  thought  as 
to  what  should  be  the  outcome  of  the  truths  concerning 
God,  and  of  our  meditative  contemplation  of  them. 

My  relation  to  these  truths  is  not  exhausted  even  when 
I  have  meditated  upon  them,  and  they  have  touched  me 
into  a  rapture  of  devotion.  I  can  conceive  that  to  have 
been  done,  and  yet  the  next  necessary  step  not  to  have 
been  taken.  What  is  that  step?  The  next  verse  tells  us, 
when  it  goes  on  to  exclaim,  '0  Lord!  the  hope  of  Israel.'' 
I  must  cast  myself  upon  Him  by  faith  as  my  only  hope, 
and  turn  away  from  all  other  confidences-which  are  vain 
and  impotent.  So  we  are  back  upon  that  familiar  Chris- 
tian ground,  that  the  bond  which  knits  a  man  to  God, 
and  by  which  all  that  God  is  becomes  that  man's  per- 
sonal property,  and  available  for  the  security  and  the 
shaping  of  his  life,  is  the  simple  flinging  of  himself  into 
God's  arms,  in  sure  and  certain  trust.  Then,  every  one 
of  these  characteristics  of  which  I  have  been  speaking 
will  contribute  its  own  special  part  to  the  serenity,  the 
security,  the  godlikeness,  the  blessedness,  the  righteous- 
ness, the  strength  of  the  man  who  thus  trusts. 

But  such  confidence  which  makes  all  these  things  my 
own  possessions,  which  makes  Him  '  a  throne  of  glory, ' 
to  which  I  have  access ;  which  makes  Him  a  place  in 
which  I  dwell  by  this  exercise  of  personal  faith ;  which 
makes  Him  my  hope,  has  for  its  other  side  the  turning 
away  from  all  other  grounds  of  confidence  and  security. 
The  subsequent  context  tells  us  how  wise  it  is  thus  to 
turn  away,  and  what  folly  it  is  to  make  anything  else 
our  hope  except  that  '  throne  of  glory. '  '  They  that  de- 
part from  Me  shall  be  written  in  the  earth,'  because 
*  they  have  forsaken  the  Lord,  the  fountain  of  living 


V.  12]  TWO  LISTS  OF  NAMES  319 

waters.'  If  we  say,  '  0  Lord!  Thou  art  my  hope,'  we 
shall  have  the  '  anchor  of  the  soul,  sure  and  steadfast, 
which  entereth  within  the  veil, '  and  fixes  on  Him  who 
is  within  it,  the  throned  Grace  between  the  cherubim,  our 
Brother  and  our  Hope.  So  we  may  dwell  in  God,  and 
from  the  secure  height  of  our  house  look  down  serenely 
on  impotent  foes,  and  never  know  the  bitterness  of  vain 
hopes,  nor  remove  from  the  safe  asylum  of  our  home  in 
God. 

TWO   LISTS   OF  NAMES 

'They  that  depart  from  Me  shall  be  written  in  the  earth.' — Jer.  xvii.  13. 
'Rejoice  that  your  names  are  written  in  heaven.' — Luke  x.  20. 

A  NAME  written  on  earth  implies  that  the  bearer  of  the 
name  belongs  to  earth,  and  it  also  secondarily  suggests 
that  the  inscription  lasts  but  for  a  little  while.  Con- 
trariwise, a  name  written  in  heaven  implies  that  its 
bearer  belongs  to  heaven,  and  that  the  inscription  will 
abide. 

We  find  running  throughout  Scripture  the  metaphor 
of  books  in  which  men's  names  are  written.  Moses 
thought  of  a  book  which  God  has  written,  and  in  which 
his  name  was  enrolled.  A  psalmist  speaks  of  the  '  book 
of  the  living, '  and  Isaiah  of  those  who  are  '  written 
among  the  living  in  Jerusalem.'  Ezekiel  threatens  the 
prophets  who  ^speak  lies  in  Jehovah's  name  that  they 
'  shall  not  be  written  in  the  writing  of  the  house  of 
Israel.'  The  Apocalypse  has  many  references  to  the 
book  which  is  designated  as  '  the  Lamb's  book  of  life, ' 
and  which  is  opened  at  the  final  judgment  along  with 
the  books  in  which  each  man's  life-history  is  written, 
and  only  '  they  who  are  written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of 
life  '  enter  into  the  city  that  comes  down  out  of  heaven. 


320  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xvii. 

I.  The  principle  on  which  the  two  lists  are  made  up. 
It  is  commonly  supposed  that  the  idea  of  unconditional 

predestination  is  implied  in  the  writing  of  the  names  in 
the  book  of  life.  There  is  nothing  in  the  figure  itself  to 
lead  to  that,  and  the  text  from  Jeremiah  suggests,  on 
the  contrary,  that  the  voluntary  attitude  of  men  to  God 
determines  their  being  or  not  being  inscribed  in  the  book 
of  heaven,  since  it  is  '  they  who  depart  from  God  '  whose 
'  names  are  written  on  earth. ' 

Then,  since  in  the  New  Testament  the  book  of  life  is 
called  'the  Lamb's,'  we  are  led  to  think  of  Christ  as 
writing  in  it,  and  hence  of  our  faith  in  Him  as  being  the 
condition  of  enrolling  our  names. 

II.  The  significance  of  the  lists. 

They  are  lists  of  the  living  and  of  the  dead. 

True  life  is  in  fellowship  with  God.  The  other  is  the 
register  of  the  burials  in  a  graveyard. 

They  are  lists  of  the  citizens  of  two  cities. 

The  idea  is  that  the  one  class  have  relations  and  affini- 
ties with  the  celestial,  are  '  fellow-citizens  with  the 
saints,'  and  have  heaven  as  their  metropolis,  their 
mother  city.  Therefore  they  are  but  as  aliens  here,  and 
should  not  wish  to  be  naturalised.  The  other  class  are 
citizens  of  the  earthly,  belonging  to  the  present,  with  all 
their  thoughts  and  desires  bounded  by  this  visible  diur- 
nal sphere. 

They  are  lists  of  those  who  shall  be  forgotten,  and 
their  works  annihilated,  and  of  those  who  shall  be  re- 
membered and  their  work  crowned. 

The  names  written  on  earth  are  swiftly  obliterated, 
like  a  child's  scrawl  on  the  sand  which  is  washed  away 
by  the  next  tide,  or  covered  up  by  the  next  storm  that 
blows  about  the  sand-hills.     What  a  contrast  is  that  of 


V.  13]  TWO  LISTS  OF  NAMES  321 

the  names  written  on  the  heavens,  high  up  above  all 
earthly  mutations! 

In  one  sense  oblivion  soon  seizes  on  us  all.  In  an- 
other none  of  us  is  ever  forgotten  by  God,  but  good  and 
bad  alike  live  in  His  thought.  Still  this  idea  of  a  spe- 
cial remembrance  has  place,  as  suggesting  that,  however 
unnoticed  or  forgotten  on  earth,  God's  children  live  in 
the  true  '  Golden  Book. '  Their  names  are  in  the  book  of 
life.  '  Of  so  much  fame,  in  heaven  expect  the  meed. ' 
Ay,  and  as,  too,  suggesting  how  brief  after  all  is  the 
honour  that  comes  from  men. 

Also,  there  will  be  annihilation  or  perpetuation  of  their 
life's  work.  Nothing  lasts  but  the  will  of  God.  Men 
who  live  godless  lives  are  engaged  in  true  Sisyphean 
labour.  They  are  running  counter  to  the  whole  stream 
of  things,  and  what  can  be  left  at  the  end  but  frustrated 
endeavours  covered  with  a  gloomy  pall? 

Is  your  life  to  be  wasted  ? 

They  are  lists  of  those  who  are  accepted  in  judgment, 
and  of  those  who  are  not. 

Eev.  XX.  12,  15;  xxi.  2T. 

The  books  of  men's  lives  are  to  be  opened,  and  also  the 
book  of  life.  What  is  written  in  the  former  can  only 
bring  condemnation.  If  our  names  are  written  in  the 
latter,  then  He  will  '  confess  our  names  before  His  Father 
and  the  holy  angels.'  And  He  will  joyfully  inscribe 
them  there  if  we  say  to  Him,  like  the  man  in  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  '  Set  down  my  name. '  He  will  write  them 
not  only  there,  but  on  the  palms  of  His  hands  and  the 
tablets  of  His  heart. 


VOL.  11. 


YOKES  OP    WOOD   AND   OF   IRON 

'Go  and  tell  Hananiah,  saying,  Thus  saith  the  Lord;  Thou  hast  broken 
the  yokes  of  wood;  but  thou  shalt  make  for  them  yokes  of  iron.' — Jeb. 
xxviii.  13. 

I  SUPPOSE  that  I  had  better  begin  by  a  word  of  explana- 
tion as  to  the  occasion  of  this  saying.  One  king  of  Judah 
had  already  been  carried  off  to  Babylon,  and  the  throne 
refilled  by  his  brother,  a  puppet  of  the  conquerors.  This 
shadow  of  a  king,  with  the  bulk  of  the  nation,  was  eager 
for  revolt.  Jeremiah  had  almost  single-handed  to  stem 
the  tide  of  the  popular  wish.  He  steadfastly  preached 
submission,  not  so  much  to  Nebuchadnezzar  as  to  God, 
who  had  sent  the  invaders  as  chastisement.  The  lesson 
was  a  difficult  one  to  learn,  and  the  people  hated  the 
teacher.  In  the  Jerusalem  of  Jeremiah's  day,  as  in 
other  places  and  at  other  times,  a  love  of  country  which 
is  not  blind  to  its  faults  and  protests  against  a  blatant 
militarism,  was  scoffed  at  as  '  unpatriotic,'  '  playing  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy,'  'seeking  peace  at  any  price,' 
whilst  an  insane  eagerness  to  rush  to  arms  without  re- 
gard to  resources  or  righteousness  was  called  a  '  spirited 
foreign  policy. '     So  Jeremiah  had  plenty  of  enemies. 

He  had  adopted  a  strange  way  of  enforcing  his  coun- 
sel, which  would  be  ridiculous  to-day,  but  was  natural 
and  impressive  then  and  there.  He  constantly  for 
months  went  about  with  an  ox-yoke  on  his  neck,  as  a 
symbol  of  the  submission  which  he  advocated.  One  day, 
in  the  temple,  before  a  public  assembly,  a  certain  Hana- 
niah, a  member  of  the  opposite  faction,  made  a  fierce 
attack  on  the  prophet  and  his  teaching,  and  uttered  a 
counter-prophecy  to  the  effect  that,  in  two  years,   the 


V.  13]     YOKES  OF  WOOD  AND  IRON        323 

foreign  invasion  would  be  at  an  end,  and  all  would  be  as 
it  used  to  be.  Our  prophet  answered  very  quietly,  say- 
ing in  effect,  '  I  hope  to  God  that  it  may  be  true ;  the 
event  will  show. '  And  then  Hananiah,  encouraged  by 
his  meekness,  proceeded  to  violence,  tore  the  yoke  off  his 
shoulders  and  snapped  it  in  two,  reiterating  his  prophecy. 
Then  Jeremiah  went  away  home. 

Soon  after,  the  voice  which  he  knew  to  be  God's,  and 
not  his  own  thoughts,  spoke  within  him,  and  gave  a 
much  sharper  answer.  God  declared,  through  Jere- 
miah, the  plain  truth  that,  for  a  tiny  kingdom  like  Judah 
to  perk  itself  up  in  the  face  of  a  world-conquering  power 
like  Babylon,  could  only  bring  down  greater  severity 
from  the  conqueror.  And  then  he  declared  that  Hana- 
niah, for  rebellion — not  against  Babylon,  but  against 
God,  the  true  King  of  Israel — would  be  taken  from  the 
earth.     He  died  in  a  couple  of  months. 

My  text  forms  the  first  word  of  this  divine  message. 
I  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  its  original  application. 
It  gives  a  picturesque  setting  to  a  very  impressive  and 
solemn  truth ;  very  familiar,  no  doubt,  but  none  the  less 
because  of  its  familiarity  needing  to  be  dinned  into  peo- 
ple's ears.  It  is  that  to  throw  off  legitimate  authority 
is  to  bind  on  a  worse  tyranny.  To  some  kind  of  yoke  all 
of  us  must  bend  our  necks,  and  if  we  slip  them  out  we 
do  not  thereby  become  independent,  but  simply  bring 
upon  ourselves  a  heavier  pressure  of  a  harder  bondage. 
The  remainder  of  my  remarks  will  simply  go  to  illus- 
trate that  principle  in  two  or  three  cases  of  ascending 
importance.     I  begin  at  the  bottom. 

I.  We  have  the  choice  between  the  yoke  of  law  and 
the  iron  yoke  of  lawlessness. 

We  all  know  that  society  could  not  be  held  together 


324  THE  BOOK  OP  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxviii. 

without  some  kind  of  restraints  upon  what  is  done,  and 
some  stimulus  to  do  what  is  apt  to  be  neglected.  Even 
a  band  of  brigands,  or  a  crew  of  pirates,  must  have  some 
code.  I  have  read  somewhere  that  the  cells  in  a  honey- 
comb are  circles  squeezed  by  the  pressure  of  the  adjacent 
cells  into  the  hexagonal  shape  which  admits  of  contigu- 
ity. If  they  continued  circles  there  would  be  space  and 
material  lost,  and  no  complete  continuity.  So,  in  like 
manner,  you  cannot  keep  five  men  together  without  some 
mutual  limitations  which  are  shaped  into  a  law.  Now, 
as  long  as  a  man  keeps  inside  it,  he  does  not  feel  its  press- 
ure. A  great  many  of  us,  for  instance,  who  are  in  the 
main  law-abiding  people,  do  not  ever  remember  that 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  restrictions  upon  our  licence, 
or  as  obligations  to  perform  certain  duties ;  for  we  never 
think  either  of  taking  the  licence  or  of  shirking  the 
duties.  The  yoke  that  is  accepted  ceases  to  press. 
Once  let  a  man  step  outside,  and  what  then?  Wh}'', 
then,  he  is  an  outlaw ;  and  the  rough  side  of  the  law  is 
turned  to  him,  and  all  possible  terrors,  which  people 
within  the  boundary  have  nothing  to  do  with,  gather 
themselves  together  and  frown  down  upon  him.  The 
sheep  that  stops  inside  the  pasture  is  never  torn  by  the 
barbed  wires  of  the  fence.  If  you  think  of  the  life  of  a 
criminal,  with  all  its  tricks  and  evasions,  taking  '  every 
bush  to  be  an  officer, '  as  Shakespeare  says ;  or  as  the  first 
of  the  brood  who  was  the  type  of  them  all  said,  '  Every 
man  that  seeth  me  shall  kill  me ' :  if  you  think  of  the 
sword  that  han'gs  over  the  head  of  every  law-breaker, 
and  which  he  knows  is  hanging  by  a  hair ;  if  you  think 
of  men  in  counting-houses  who  have  manipulated  the 
books  of  the  firm,  and  who  durst  not  be  away  from  their 
desks  for  a  day  lest  all  should  come  to  light ;  and  if  you 


V.  13]     YOKES  OF  WOOD  AND  IRON        325 

think  of  the  punishment  that  follows  sooner  or  later,  you 
will  see  that  it  is  better  to  bear  the  light  yoke  of  the  law 
than  the  heavy  yoke  of  crime.  Some  men  buy  their  ruin 
very  dearly. 

So  much  for  the  individual.  But  there  is  another 
aspect  of  this  same  principle  on  which  I  venture  to  say 
a  word,  although  it  is  only  a  word,  in  passing.  I  do  not 
suppose  that  there  are  many  of  my  hearers  who  are  likely 
to  commit  overt  breaches  of  the  law.  But  there  are  a 
great  many  of  us  who  are  apt  to  neglect  the  obligations 
of  citizenship.  In  a  community  like  ours,  laziness,  fas- 
tidiousness, absorption  in  our  own  occupations,  and  a 
number  of  other  more  or  less  reputable  reasons,  tempt 
many  to  stand  aloof  from  the  plain  imperative  obliga- 
tions of  every  citizen  in  a  free  country.  Every  man  who 
thus  neglects  to  do  his  part  for  the  common  weal  does 
his  part  in  handing  over  the  rule  of  the  community  to 
the  least  worthy.  You  will  find — as  you  see  in  some 
democratic  countries  to-day,  where  the  cultivated  classes, 
and  the  classes  with  the  sternest  morality,  have  with- 
drawn in  disgust  from  the  turmoil — the  mob  having  the 
upper  hand,  the  least  worthy  scrambling  into  high  places, 
and  the  community  suffering,  and  bearing  a  heavier 
yoke,  by  reason  of  the  unwillingness  of  some  to  bear  the 
yoke  and  do  the  duty  of  a  citizen.  Vice  lifts  up  its 
head,  morality  is  scouted,  self-interest  is  pursued  un- 
blushingly,  and  the  whole  tone  of  public  opinion  is  low- 
ered. Christian  men  and  women,  remember  that  you 
are  members  of  a  community,  and  you  bear  the  yoke  of 
responsibility  therefore ;  and  if  you  do  not  discharge  your 
obligation,  then  you  will  have  a  heavier  burden  still  to 
bear. 

I  need  not  remind  you,  I  suppose,  of  how  this  same 


326  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxviii. 

thesis — that  we  have  to  choose  between  the  yoke  of  law 
and  the  iron  yoke  of  lawlessness — is  illustrated  in  the 
story  of  almost  all  violent  revolutions.  They  run  the 
same  course.  First  a  nation  rises  up  against  intolerable 
oppression,  then  revolution  devours  its  own  children,  and 
the  scum  rises  to  the  top  of  the  boiling  pot.  Then 
comes,  in  the  language  of  the  picturesque  historian  of 
the  French  Revolution,  the  type  of  them  all — then  comes 
at  the  end  '  the  whiff  of  grapeshot '  and  the  despot.  First 
the  government  of  a  mob,  and  then  the  tyranny  of  an 
emperor,  crush  the  people  that  shake  off  the  yoke  of  rea- 
sonable law.     That  is  my  first  point. 

II.  Let  me  take  a  higher  illustration; — we  have  to 
choose  between  the  yoke  of  virtue  and  the  iron  yoke  of  vice. 

We  are  under  a  far  more  spiritual  and  searching  law 
than  that  written  in  any  statute-book,  or  administered 
by  any  court.  Every  man  carries  within  his  own  heart 
the  court,  the  tribunal ;  the  culprit  and  the  judge.  And 
here  too,  if  law  is  not  obeyed,  the  result  is  not  liberty, 
but  the  slavery  of  lawlessness. 

No  man  can  ponder  his  own  nature  and  make  without 
feeling  that  on  every  fibre  of  him  is  stamped  a  great  law 
which  he  is  bound  to  obey,  and  that  on  every  fibre  of  him 
is  impressed  the  necessity  of  part  of  his  nature  coercing, 
restraining,  or  spurring  other  parts  of  it.  For,  if  we 
take  stock  of  ourselves,  what  do  we  find?  The  broad 
basis  of  the  pyramid,  as  it  were,  is  laid  in  the  faculties 
nearest  the  earth,  the  appetites  which  are  inseparable 
from  our  corporeal  being,  and  these  know  nothing  about 
right  or  wrong,  but  are  utterly  blind  to  such  distinctions. 
Put  a  loaf  before  a  hungry  man,  and  his  mouth  waters, 
whether  the  loaf  belongs  to  himself  or  whether  it  is  in- 
side a  baker's  window. 


V.  13]     YOKES  OF  WOOD  AND  IRON        327 

Then  above  these,  as  the  next  course  of  the  pyramid, 
there  are  other  desires,  sentiments,  affections,  and  emo- 
tions, less  grossly  sensuous  than  those  of  which  I  have 
been  speaking,  but  still  equally  certain  to  be  excited  by 
the  presence  of  their  appropriate  object,  without  any 
consideration  of  whether  law  is  broken  or  kept  in  secur- 
ing of  it.  Above  these,  which  are,  so  to  speak,  branded 
on  their  very  foreheads  with  the  iron  of  slavery,  stand 
certain  faculties  which  are  as  clearly  anointed  to  rule  as 
the  others  are  intended  to  serve.  There  is  reason  or  in- 
telligence, which  is  evidently  meant  to  be  eyes  to  these 
blind  instincts  and  emotions  of  desire,  and  there  is  what 
we  call  the  power  of  will,  that  stands  like  an  engine- 
driver  with  his  hand  upon  the  lever  which  will  either 
stop  the  engine  or  accelerate  its  revolutions.  It  says  to 
passions  and  desires  '  Go! '  and  they  go;  and,  alas!  it 
sometimes  says  '  Halt! '  and  they  will  not  halt.  Then 
there  is  conscience,  which  brings  to  light  for  every  man 
something  higher  than  himself.  A  great  philosopher 
once  said  that  the  two  sublimest  things  in  the  universe 
were  the  moral  law  and  the  starry  heavens ;  and  that  law 
'  I  ought '  bends  over  us  like  the  starry  heavens  with 
which  he  associated  it.  No  man  can  escape  from  the 
pressure  of  duty,  and  on  every  man  is  laid,  by  his  very 
make,  the  twofold  obligation,  first  to  look  upwards  and 
catch  the  behests  of  that  solemn  law,  and  then  to  turn 
his  eyes  and  his  strength  inwards  and  coerce  or  spur,  as 
the  case  may  be,  the  powers  of  his  nature,  and  rule  the 
kingdom  within  himself. 

Now,  as  long  as  a  man  lets  the  ruling  parts  of  his  na- 
ture guide  the  lower  faculties,  he  feels  comparatively  no 
pressure  from  the  yoke.  But,  if  he  once  allows  beggars 
to  ride  on  horseback  whilst  princes  walk — sense  and  ap- 


328  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxviii. 

petite  and  desire,  and  more  or  less  refined  forms  of  in- 
clination, to  take  the  place  which  belongs  only  to  con- 
science interpreting  duty — then  he  has  exchanged  the 
easy  yoke  for  one  that  is  heavy  indeed. 

What  does  a  man  do  when,  instead  of  loyally  accept- 
ing the  conditions  of  his  nature,  and  bowing  himself  to 
serve  the  all-embracing  and  all-penetrating  law  of  duty, 
he  sets  up  inclination  of  any  sort  in  its  place?  What 
does  he  do?  I  will  tell  you.  He  unships  the  helm;  he 
flings  compass  and  sextant  overboard ;  he  fires  up  the 
furnaces,  and  screws  down  the  safety-valve,  and  says, 
'  Go  ahead! '  And  what  will  be  the  end  of  that,  think 
you?  Either  an  explosion  or  a  crash  upon  a  reef;  and 
you  may  take  your  choice  of  which  is  the  better  kind  of 
death — to  be  blown  up  or  to  go  down.  Keep  within  the 
law  of  conscience,  and  let  it  govern  all  inclinations,  and 
most  of  all  the  animal  part  of  your  nature ;  and  you  will 
feel  little  pressure,  and  no  pain,  from  the  yoke.  Shake 
it  off,  and  there  is  fulfilled  in  the  disobedient  man  the 
threatening  of  my  text,  which  rightly  translated  ought 
to  be,  '  Thou  hast  broken  the  yokes  of  wood,  and  thou 
hast  made  instead  of  them  yokes  of  iron. ' 

For  do  you  think  it  will  be  easy  to  serve  the  base-born 
parts  of  your  nature,  when  you  set  them  on  the  throne 
and  tell  them  to  govern  you?  Did  you  never  hear  of 
such  a  thing  as  a  man's  vices  getting  such  a  hold  on  him 
that,  when  his  weakened  will  tried  to  shake  them  off, 
they  laughed  in  his  face  and  said,  '  Here  we  are  still '? 
Did  you  never  hear  of  that  other  solemn  truth — and  have 
you  never  experienced  how  true  it  is? — that  no  man  can 
say,  '  I  will  let  my  inclination  have  its  fling  this  once  '  ? 
There  are  never  'this  onces,'  or  very,  very  seldom. 
When  you  are  glissading  down  a  snowy  Alpine  slope, 


V.  13]     YOKES  OF  WOOD  AND  IRON        329 

you  cannot  stop  when  you  like,  though  you  strike  your 
alpenstock  ever  so  deep  into  the  powdery  snow.  If  you 
have  started,  away  you  must  go,  God  be  thanked!  the 
illustration  does  not  altogether  apply,  for  a  man  can  stop 
if  he  will  repent,  but  he  cannot  stop  unless  he  does.  Did 
you  never  hear  that  a  teaspoonful  of  narcotic  to-day  will 
have  to  be  a  tablespoonful  in  a  week  or  two,  to  produce 
the  same  effect?  Are  there  not  plenty  of  men  who  have 
said  with  all  the  force  that  a  weakened  will  has  left  in  it, 
'  I  will  never  touch  a  drop  of  drink  again,  as  long  as  I 
live,  God  helping  me  '  ? — and  they  have  gone  down  the 
street,  and  they  have  turned  in,  not  at  the  first  or  the 
second  public-house,  but  at  the  fourth  or  the  fifth.  Ah! 
brother,  '  they  promised  them  liberty,  but  they  are  the 
servants  of  corruption, '  Fix  this  in  your  minds.  '  He 
that  committeth  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin,'  of  the  sin  that 
he  commits.  Do  not  put  off  the  easy  yoke  of  obedience 
to  conscience  and  duty,  or  you  will  find  that  there  is  an 
iron  one,  with  many  a  sharp  point  in  its  unpolished  sur- 
face rubbing  into  your  skin  and  wounding  your  shoul- 
ders. '  It's  wiser  to  be  good  than  bad.  It's  safer  to  be 
meek  than  fierce. '  '  Thou  hast  broken  the  yokes  of 
wood  ' ;  it  is  not  difficult  to  do  that ;  '  thou  hast  made 
instead  of  them  yokes  of  iron.'  That  is  my  second 
point. 

III.  Lastly,  we  have  the  choice  between  the  yoke  of 
Christ  and  the  iron  yoke  of  godlessness. 

You  may  think  that  to  be  a  very  harsh  saying,  and 
much  too  vehement  an  antithesis.  Let  me  vindicate  it 
according  to  my  own  belief  in  a  sentence  or  two.  It 
seems  to  me  that  for  civilised  and  cultivated  Europe  at 
this  day,  the  choice  lies  between  accepting  Jesus  Christ 
as  the  Revealer  of  God,  or  wandering  away  out  into  the 


330  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxviii. 

wastes  of  uncertainty,  or  as  they  call  it  nowadays,  agnos- 
ticism and  doubt.  I  believe  myself,  and  I  venture  to 
state  it  here — though  there  is  not  time  to  do  more  than 
state  it — that  no  form  of  what  is  now  called  Theism, 
which  does  not  accept  the  historic  revelation  of  God  in 
Jesus  Christ  as  the  '  master-light  of  all  our  seeing, '  will 
ever  be  able  to  sustain  itself  permanently  in  the  face  of 
present  currents  of  opinion.  If  you  do  not  take  Christ 
for  your  Teacher,  you  are  handed  over  either  to  the  un- 
certainty of  your  own  doubts,  or  to  pinning  your  faith  to 
some  man  and  enrolling  yourself  as  a  disciple  who  is 
prepared  to  swallow  down  whole  whatsoever  the  rabbi 
may  say,  and  so  giving  to  him  what  you  will  not  give 
to  Jesus ;  or  else  you  will  sink  back  into  utter  indolence 
and  carelessness  about  the  whole  matter;  or  else  you 
will  go  and  put  your  belief  and  your  soul  into  the  hands 
of  a  priest,  and  shut  your  eyes  and  open  your  mouth  and 
take  whatever  tradition  may  choose  to  send  you.  The 
one  refuge  from  all  these,  as  I  believe,  is  to  go  to  Him 
and  learn  of  Him,  and  so  take  His  yoke  upon  your  shoul- 
ders. 

But,  let  me  say  further,  it  is  better  to  obey  Christ's 
commandments  than  to  set  ourselves  against  them.  For 
if  we  will  take  His  will  for  our  law,  and  meekly  assume 
the  yoke  of  loyal  and  loving  obedience  to  Him,  the  door 
into  an  earthly  paradise  is  thrown  open  to  us.  His  yoke 
is  easy,  not  because  its  prescriptions  and  provisions  lower 
the  standard  of  righteousness  and  morality,  but  because 
love  becomes  the  motive ;  and  it  is  always  blessed  to  do 
that  which  the  Beloved  desires.  When  '  I  will '  and 
'  I  ought '  cover  exactly  the  same  ground,  then  there  is 
no  kind  of  pressure  from  the  yoke.  Christ's  yoke  is  easy 
because,  too.  He  gives  the  power  to  obey  His  command- 


V.  13]     YOKES  OF  WOOD  AND  IRON        331 

raents.  His  burden  is  such  a  burden  (as  I  think  one  of 
the  old  fathers  puts  it)  as  sails  are  to  a  ship  or  wings  to 
a  bird.  They  add  to  the  weight,  but  they  carry  that 
which  carries  them.  So  Christ's  yoke  bears  the  man 
that  bears  it.  It  is  easy,  too,  because  '  in, '  and  not  only 
after  or  for,  '  keeping  of  it  there  is  great  reward  ' ;  see- 
ing that  He  commands  nothing  which  is  not  congruous 
with  the  highest  good,  and  bringing  along  with  it  the 
purest  blessing.  Instead  of  that  yoke,  what  has  the 
world  to  offer,  or  what  do  we  get  to  dominate  us,  if  we 
cast  off  Christ?  Self,  the  old  anarch  self,  and  that  is 
misery.     To  be  self -ruled  is  to  be  self-destroyed. 

There  is  no  need  that  I  should  remind  you  of  how  it  is 
better  to  accept  Chrisfs  providences  than  to  kick  against 
them.  Sorrow  to  which  we  submit  loses  all  its  bitterness 
and  much  of  its  sadness.  Kicking  against  the  affliction 
makes  its  sharp  point  penetrate  our  limbs.  The  bird  that 
will  dash  itself  against  the  wires  of  its  cage  beats  itself 
all  bloody  and  torn.  Let  us  take  the  providence  and  it 
ceases  to  be  hard. 

One  last  word ; — we  all  carry  an  iron  yoke  upon  our 
shoulders.  For,  hard  as  it  is  for  us  preachers  to  get  our 
friends  that  listen  to  us  to  believe  and  realise  it,  '  We  all 
have  sinned  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God.'  That 
yoke  is  on  us  all.  And  I,  for  my  part,  believe  that  no 
man  by  his  own  efforts  can  cast  it  off,  but  that  the  at- 
tempt to  do  so  often  brings  greater  strength  to  the  sins 
that  we  seek  to  cast  out,  just  as  the  more  you  mow  the 
grass,  the  thicker  and  the  stronger  it  grows.  So  I  come 
with  the  great  message  which  Jesus  Christ  Himself 
struck  as  the  keynote  and  prelude  of  His  whole  ministry, 
when  in  the  synagogue  He  said,  '  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
God  is  upon  Me  ...  to  preach  deliverance  to  the  cap- 


332  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxi. 

tives,  and  the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them  that  are 
bound. '  He,  and  He  only,  will  break  every  yoke  and  let 
the  oppressed  go  free.  And  then  He  addresses  us,  after 
He  has  done  that,  with  the  immortal  words,  the  sweet- 
ness of  whose  sound,  sweet  as  it  is,  is  less  than  the  sweet- 
ness of  their  sense :  '  Take  My  yoke  upon  you  .  .  .  and 
ye  shall  find  rest  to  your  souls.'  Oh,  brother!  will  you 
not  answer,  '  O  Lord !  truly  I  am  Thy  servant.  Thou 
hast  loosed  my  bonds,  and  thereby  bound  me  for  ever  to 
wear  Thy  yoke  ' ;  as  the  slave  clings  to  his  ransomer,  and 
delights  to  serve  him  all  the  days  of  his  life? 


WHAT   THE   STABLE   CREATION   TEACHES 

'If  those  ordinances  depart  from  before  Me,  saith  the  Lord,  then  the 
seed  of  Israel  also  shall  cease  from  being  a  nation  before  Me  for  ever.' — 
Jer.  xxxi.  36. 

This  is  the  seal  of  the  new  covenant,  which  is  to  be  made 
in  days  future  to  the  prophet  and  his  contemporaries, 
with  the  house  of  Israel  and  of  Judah.     That  new  cove- 
nant is  referred  to  in  Hebrews  as  the  fundamental  law 
of  Christ's  kingdom.     Therefore  we  have  the  right  to 
take  to  ourselves  the  promises  which  it  contains,  and  to 
think  of  '  the  house  of  Israel '  and  '  the  seed  of  Jacob  '  as 
including  us,  '  though  Abraham  be  ignorant  of  us. ' 
r     The  covenant  and  its  pledge  are  equally  grand.     The 
ivery  idea  of  a  covenant  as  applied  to  God  is  wonderful. 
It  is  meant  to  teach  us  that,  from  all  the  infinite  modes 
of  action  possible  to  Him,  He  has  chosen  One;   that  He 
has,  as  it  were,  marked  out  a  path  for  Himself,  and  con- 
.  fined  the  freedom  of  His  will  and  the  manifold  omnipo- 
I  tences  of  His  power  to  prescribed  limits,  that  He  has  de- 
^  termined  the  course  of  His  future  action.     It  is  meant  to 


V.  36]  THE  STABLE  CREATION  333 

teach  us,  too,  the  other  grand  thought  that  He  has  de- 
clared to  us  what  that  course  is,  not  leaving  us  to  learn 
it  piecemeal  by  slow  building  up  of  conclusions  about 
His  mind  from  His  actions  as  they  come  forth,  but  in- 
versely telling  us  His  mind  and  purpose  in  articulate  and 
authentic  words  by  which  we  are  to  interpret  each  suc- 
cessive work  of  His.  He  makes  known  His  purposes. 
'Before  they  spring  forth  I  tell  you  of  them.' 

It  is  meant  to  teach  us,  too,  that  He  regards  Himself 
as  bound  by  the  declaration  which  He  has  made,  so  that 
we  may  rest  secure  on  this  strong  foundation  of  His 
faithfulness  and  His  truth,  and  for  all  doubts  and  fears 
find  the  sufficient  cure  in  His  own  declaration :  '  My 
covenant  will  I  not  break  nor  alter  the  thing  that  is  gone 
out  of  My  lips. '  No  wonder  that  the  dying  king  found 
the  strength  of  his  failing  heart  in  the  thought,  '  He 
hath  made  with  me  an  everlasting  covenant,  ordered  in 
all  things  and  sure. ' 

The  weighty  promises  of  this  solemn  bond  of  God's 
cover  the  whole  ground  of  our  spiritual  necessities — for- 
giveness of  sins,  true,  personal,  direct  acquaintance  with 
God,  an  intercommunion  of  mutual  possession  between 
Him  who  is  ours  and  us  who  are  His,  and  an  inward 
sanctification  by  which  His  precepts  shall  coincide  with 
our  desires.  These  are  the  blessings  which  He  binds 
Himself  to  bestow. 

And  of  this  transcendent  pact,  the  seal  and  guarantee 
is  worthy.  God  descends  to  ratify  a  bond  with  man. 
By  it  He  binds  Himself  to  give  all  possible  good  for  the 
soul.  And  to  confirm  it  heaven  and  earth  are  called  in. 
He  points  us  to  all  that  is  august,  stable,  immense,  in- 
scrutable in  the  works  of  His  hands,  and  bids  us  see  there 
His  pledge  that  He  will  be  a  faithful,  covenant-keeping 


S34  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxi. 

God.     Sun,  moon  and  stars,  heaven,  earth  and  sea — '  ye 
are  My  witnesses, '  saith  the  Lord. 

God's  unchangeable  love  is  the  true  lesson  from  the 
stable  regularity  of  the  universe.  The  tone  in  which 
Scripture  speaks  of  external  nature  in  all  its  parts  is  very 
remarkable,  altogether  peculiar.  It  does  not  take  the 
aesthetic  or  the  scientific,  but  the  purely  religious  point 
of  view. 

I.  The  facts.  All  nature  is  directly  the  effect  of 
God's  will  and  power.  '  He  giveth,'  '  He  divideth'  (v. 
35). 

The  physical  universe  presents  a  spectacle  of  stable 
regularity. 

This  regularity  is  the  consequence  of  sovereign,  divine 
will.  These  ordinances  are  not  laws  of  nature,  but  of 
God. 

II.  The  use  commonly  made  of  the  facts. 

Ordinary  unthinking  worldliness  sees  nothing  noticea- 
ble in  them  because  they  come  uniformly.  Earthquakes 
startle,  but  the  firmness  of  the  solid  earth  attracts  no 
observation.  God  is  thought  to  speak  in  the  extraordi- 
nary, but  most  men  do  not  hear  His  voice  in  the 
normal. 

Scientific  godlessness  formularises  this  tendency  into 
a  system,  and  proclaims  that  laws  are  everything  and 
God  a  mere  algebraical  x. 

III.  The  lesson  which  they  are  meant  to  teach. 
God's  works  are  a  revelation  of  God. 

There  is  nothing  in  effect  which  is  not  in  cause,  and 
the  stability  of  these  ordinances  carries  our  thoughts 
back  to  an  unchanging  Ordainer. 

They  witness  to  His  constancy  of  purpose  or  will.  His 
acts  do  not  come  from  caprice,  nor  are  done  as  experi- 


V.  36]  THE  STABLE  CREATION  335 

ments,  but  are  the  stable  expression  of  uniform  and  un- 
changing will. 

They  witness  to  His  unfailing  energy  of  power,  which 
'  operates  unspent '  and  is  to-day  as  fresh  as  at  creation's 
birth. 

They  witness  to  a  single  end  pursued  through  all 
changes,  and  by  all  varieties  of  means.  Darkness  and 
light,  sun  rising  and  setting,  storm  and  sunshine,  sum- 
mer and  winter,  all  serve  one  end.  As  a  horizontal 
thrust  may  give  rise  to  opposite  circular  motions  which 
all  issue  in  working  out  an  onward  progress,  so  the  vari- 
ous dealings  of  Providence  with  us  are  all  adapted  to 
'  work  together, '  and  that  '  for  good. ' 

They  witness  that  life,  joy,  beauty,  flow  from  obe- 
dience. 

Thus,  then,  these  ordinances  in  their  stability  are  wit- 
nesses. But  they  are  inferior  witnesses.  The  noblest 
revelation  of  the  divine  faithfulness  and  unchangeable 
purpose  of  good  is  in  Jesus.  And  these  witnesses  will 
one  day  pass.  Even  now  they  have  their  changes,  slow 
and  unmarked  by  a  short-lived  man.  Stars  burn  out, 
there  have  been  violent  convulsions,  shocks  and  shat- 
terings  in  the  heavens,  and  a  time  comes,  as  even  phys- 
ical science  predicts,  when  '  the  heavens  shall  vanish 
away  like  smoke,  and  the  earth  shall  wax  old  like  a 
garment, '  but  that  to  which  they  witnessed  shall  endure, 
'  My  salvation  shall  be  for  ever,  and  My  righteousness 
shall  not  be  abolished.'  The  created  lights  grow  dim 
and  die  out,  but  in  '  the  Father  of  lights  '  is  '  no  varia- 
bleness, neither  shadow  that  is  cast  by  turning. ' 

Hence  we  see  what  our  confidence  should  be.  It 
should  stand  firm  and  changeless  as  the  Covenant,  and 
we  should  move  in  our  orbits  as  the  stars  and  hearken  to 


S36  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxi. 

ithe  voice  of  His  word  as  do  they.  Let  us  see  to  it  that 
!  we  have  faith  to  match  His  faithfulness,  and  that  our 
confidence  shall  be  firmer  than  the  mountains,  more 
stable  than  the  stars. 


WHAT  THE   IMMENSE   CREATION   TEACHES 

'If  heaven  above  can  be  measured,  and  the  foundations  of  the  earth 
searched  out  beneath,  I  will  also  cast  off  aU  the  seed  of  Israel  for  all  that 
they  have  done,  saith  the  Lord.' — Jer.  xxxi.  37. 

In  the  former  sermon  we  considered  the  previous  verse 
as  presenting  the  stability  of  creation  as  a  guarantee  of 
the  firmness  of  God's  gracious  covenant.  Now  we  have 
to  consider  these  grand  closing  words  which  bring  be- 
fore us  another  aspect  of  the  universe  as  a  guarantee  for 
another  side  of  God's  gracious  character.  The  immen- 
y  sity  of  creation  is  a  symbol  of  the  inexhaustibleness  of  the 
forgiving  love  of  God. 

I.  A  word  or  two  as  to  the  fact  here  used  as  a  symbol 
of  the  divine  long-suffering. 

The  prophet  had  very  likely  no  idea  at  all  beyond  the 
ordinary  one  that  presents  itself  to  the  senses — a  bound- 
less vault  above  an  endless  plain  on  which  we  stand, 
deep,  sunless  foundations,  the  Titanic  substructions  on 
which  all  rests,  going  down  who  knows  where,  resting 
on  who  knows  what.  We  may  smile  at  the  rude  con- 
ception, but  it  will  be  well  for  us  if  we  can  get  as  vivid 
an  impression  of  the  fact  as  He  had. 

We  thankfully  avail  ourselves  of  modern  science  to 
tell  us  something  about  the  dimensions  of  this  awful 
universe  of  ours.  We  learn  to  know  that  there  are 
millions  of  miles  between  these  neighbour  orbs,  that 
light  which  has  been  travelling  for  thousands  of  years 
may  not  yet  have  fallen  on  some  portion  of  the  mighty 


V.  37J       THE  IMMENSE  CREATION  337 

whole,  that  the  planetary  masses  of  our  system  are  but 
tiny  specks  in  the  whole,  that  every  fresh  stride  which 
astronomical  observation  takes  but  opens  up  new  nebulae 
to  be  resolved,  where  suns  and  constellations  and  sys- 
tems are  dwarfed  by  distance  into  hazy  brightness  which 
hardly  deserves  the  name  of  light.  We  know  all  this, 
and  can  find  all  about  the  distances  in  any  book.  So 
much  for  space.  Then  the  geologist  comes  to  bewilder 
us  still  more,  with  extension  in  time. 

But  while  all  this  may  serve  to  give  definiteness  to  the 
impression,  after  all,  perhaps,  it  is  the  eye  alone,  as  it 
gazes,  that  really  feels  the  impression.  Astronomy  is 
really  a  very  prosaic  science. 

II.  The  effects  which  this  immensity  often  produces 
on  men. 

Very  commonly  in  old  days  it  led  to  actual  idolatry, 
bowing  down  before  these  calm,  unreachable  bright- 
nesses. In  our  days  it  too  often  leads  to  forgetting  God 
altogether,  and  not  seldom  to  disbelief  that  man  can  be 
of  any  account  in  such  a  universe.  We  are  told  that 
the  notions  of  a  covenant,  a  redemption,  or  that  God 
cares  about  us  are  presumptuous.  We  all  know  the  talk 
of  men  who  are  so  modestly  conscious  of  their  own  in- 
significance that  they  rebuke  God  for  saying  that  Hq 
loves  us,  and  Christians  for  believing  Him. 

HI.  The  true  lesson. 

The  immensity  of  the  material  universe  is  for  us  a 
symbol  of  the  infinity  of  God's  long-suffering  love. 

The  creation  proceeds  from  a  greater  Creator.  That 
gigantic  and  overwhelming  magnitude,  that  hoary  and 
immemorial  age,  that  complicated  and  innumerable  mul- 
titude of  details,  what  less  can  they  show  than  One 
Eternal  and  Infinite? 

VOL.  II.  T 


K^ 


338  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxi. 

The  immense  suggests  the  infinite. 

Granted  that  you  cannot  from  the  immense  creation 
rise  logically  to  the  Infinite  Creator,  still  the  facts  that 
the  soul  conceives  that  there  is  an  infinite  God,  and  is 
conscious  of  the  spontaneous  evoking  of  that  thought  by 
the  contemplation  of  the  immeasurable,  are  strong  rea- 
sons for  believing  that  it  is  a  legitimate  process  of 
thought  which  hears  the  name  of  God  thundered  from 
the  far-off  depths  of  the  silent  heavens.  The  heavens 
cannot  be  measured,  no  plummet  can  reach  to  the  deep 
foundations  of  the  earth.  We  are  surrounded  by  a  uni- 
verse which  to  our  apprehensions  is  boundless.  How 
much  more  so  from  expansions  of  our  conceptions  of 
celestial  magnitudes  since  Jeremiah's  days,  and  what  is 
to  be  the  lesson  from  that?  That  we  are  insignificant 
atoms  in  this  mighty  whole?  that  God  is  far  away  from 
us?  that  the  material  stretches  so  far  that  perhaps  there 
is  nothing  beyond? 

The  thought  of  faith  is  that  the  material  immensity 
teaches  me  my  God's  infinity,  and  especially  His  inex- 
haustible patience  with  us  sinners.  It  teaches  us  the 
unfathomed  depths  of  His  gracious  heart,  and  the  abysses 
of  His  mysterious  providence,  and  the  unbounded  sweep 
of  His  long-suffering  forgiveness.  His  forgiving  for- 
bearance reaches  further  than  the  limits  of  the  heavens. 
Not  till  these  can  be  measured  will  it  be  exhausted,  and 
the  seed  of  Israel  cast  off  for  what  they  have  done. 

He,  the  Infinite  Father,  above  all  creation,  mightier 
than  it,  is  our  true  home,  and  living  in  Him  we  have  an 
abode  which  can  never  be  '  dissolved, '  and  above  us 
stretch  far-shining  glories,  unapproached  masses  of 
brightness,  nebulas  of  blessedness,  spaces  where  the  eye 
fails  and  the  imagination  faints.     All  is  ours,  our  eter- 


V.  37]        THE  IMMENSE  CREATION  339 

nal  possession,  the  inexhaustible  source  of  our  joy.  As- 
tronomers tell  of  light  which  has  been  travelling  for 
millenniums  and  has  not  yet  reached  this  globe;  but 
what  is  that  to  the  flashing  glories  which  through  eter- 
nity shall  pour  on  us  from  Him?  So,  then,  our  confi- 
dence should  be  firm  and  inexhaustible. 

God  has  written  wondrous  lessons  in  His  creation. 
But  they  are  hieroglyphs,  of  which  the  key  is  lost,  till 
we  hear  Christ  and  learn  of  Him.  God  has  set  His 
glories  in  the  heavens  and  the  earth  is  full  of  His 
mercy,  but  these  are  lesser  gifts  than  that  which  contains 
them  all  and  transcends  them  all,  even  His  Son  by 
whom  He  made  the  worlds,  and — mightier  still — by 
whom  He  redeemed  man.  God  has  written  His  mercy 
in  the  heavens  and  His  faithfulness  in  the  clouds,  but 
His  mercy  and  His  faithfulness  are  more  commended 
to  us  in  Him  who  was  before  all  things,  and  of  whom  it 
is  written:  'As  a  vesture  shalt  Thou  fold  them  up,  but 
Thou  art  the  same  and  Thy  years  shall  not  fail. '  God 
has  confirmed  the  covenant  of  His  love  to  us  by  the  faith- 
ful witnesses  in  the  heavens,  but  the  love  shall  abide 
when  they  have  perished.  The  heavens  bend  above  us 
all,  and  over  the  head  of  every  man  the  zenith  stands. 
Every  spot  of  this  low  earth  is  smiled  upon  by  that 
serene  apocalypse  of  the  loving  will  of  God.  No  lane  is 
so  narrow  and  foul  in  the  great  city,  no  spot  is  so  bare 
and  lonely  in  the  waste  desert,  but  that  thither  the  sun- 
light comes,  and  there  some  patch  of  blue  above  beck- 
ons the  downcast  eye  to  look  up.  The  day  opens  its 
broad  bosom  bathed  in  light,  and  shows  the  sun  in  the 
heavens,  the  Lord  of  light,  to  preach  to  us  of  the  true 
light.  The  night  opens  deeper  abysses  and  fills  them 
with  stars,  to  preach  to  us  how  fathomless  and  immense 


340         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxiil. 

His  loving  kindnesses  and  tender  mercy  are.  They  are 
witnesses  to  thee,  dear  friend,  whatsoever  thy  heart, 
whatsoever  thy  sins,  whatsoever  thy  memories.  No  in- 
iquity can  shut  out  God's  forgiving  love.  You  cannot 
build  out  the  heavens.  He  will  not  be  sent  away ;  you 
cannot  measure,  you  cannot  conceive,  you  cannot  ex- 
haust, His  pardoning  love.  No  storms  disturb  that 
serene  sky.  It  is  always  there,  blazing  down  upon  us 
unclouded  with  all  its  orbs.  Trust  Christ ;  and  then  as 
years  roll  on,  you  will  find  that  infinite  love  growing 
ever  greater  to  your  loving  eyes,  and  through  eternity 
will  move  onwards  in  the  happy  atmosphere  and  bound- 
less heaven  of  the  inexhaustible,  deep  heart  and  change- 
less love  of  God. 


A  THREEFOLD   DISEASE  AND   A  TWOFOLD 

CURE. 

'I  will  cleanse  them  from  all  their  iniquity,  whereby  they  have  sinned 
against  Me;  and  I  will  pardon  all  their  iniquities,  whereby  they  have 
sinned,  and  whereby  they  have  transgressed  against  Me.' — Jer.  xxxiii.  8. 

Jeremiah  was  a  prisoner  in  the  palace  of  the  last  King 
of  Judah.  The  long,  national  tragedy  had  reached  al- 
most the  last  scene  of  the  last  act.  The  besiegers  were 
drawing  their  net  closer  round  the  doomed  city.  The 
prophet  had  never  faltered  in  predicting  its  fall,  but  he 
had  as  uniformly  pointed  to  a  period  behind  the  impend- 
ing ruin,  when  all  should  be  peace  and  joy.  His  song 
was  modulated  from  a  saddened  minor  to  triumphant 
jubilation.  In  the  beginning  of  this  chapter  he  has  de- 
clared that  the  final  struggles  of  the  besieged  will  only 
end  in  filling  the  land  with  their  corpses,  and  then,  from 
that  lowest  depth,  he  soars  in  a  burst  of  lyrical  prophecy 


V.  8]  A  THREEFOLD  DISEASE  341 

conceived  in  the  highest  poetic  style.  The  exiles  shall 
return,  the  city  shall  be  rebuilt,  its  desolate  streets  shall 
ring  with  hymns  of  praise  and  the  voices  of  the  bride- 
groom and  the  bride.  The  land  shall  be  peopled  with 
peaceful  husbandmen,  and  white  with  flocks.  There 
shall  be  again  a  King  upon  the  throne ;  sacrifices  shall 
again  be  offered.  '  In  those  days,  and  at  that  time,  will 
I  cause  the  branch  of  righteousness  to  grow  up  unto 
David.  ...  In  those  days  shall  Judah  be  saved,  and 
Jerusalem  shall  dwell  safely;  and  this  is  the  name 
wherewith  she  shall  be  called,  the  Lord  our  righteous- 
ness. '  That  fair  vision  of  the  future  begins  with  the 
offer  of  healing  and  cure,  and  with  the  exuberant  prom- 
ise of  my  text.  The  first  thing  to  be  dealt  with  was 
Judah's  sin ;  and  that  being  taken  away,  all  good  and 
blessing  would  start  into  being,  as  flowerets  will  spring 
when  the  baleful  shadow  of  some  poisonous  tree  is  re- 
moved. Now,  my  text  at  first  reading  seems  to  expend 
a  great  many  unnecessary  words  in  saying  the  same 
thing  over  and  over  again,  but  the  accumulation  of  syn- 
onyms not  only  emphasises  the  completeness  of  the 
promise,  but  also  presents  different  aspects  of  that  prom- 
ise. And  it  is  to  these  that  I  crave  your  attention  in 
this  sermon.  The  great  words  of  my  text  are  as  true  a 
gospel  for  us — and  as  much  needed  by  us,  God  knows! — 
as  they  were  for  Jeremiah's  contemporaries;  and  we  can 
understand  them  better  than  either  he  or  they  did,  be- 
cause the  days  that  were  to  come  then  have  come  now, 
and  the  King  who  was  to  reign  in  righteousness  is  reign- 
ing to-day,  and  His  Name  is  Christ.  My  object  now  is, 
as  simply  as  I  can,  to  draw  your  attention  to  the  two 
points  in  this  text:  a  threefold  view  of  our  sad  condition, 
and  a  twofold  bright  hope. 


342         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxiii. 

Now  for  the  first  of  these.     There  is  here — 

I.  A  threefold  view  of  the  sad  condition  of  humanity. 

Observe  the  recurrence  of  the  same  idea  in  our  text  in 
different  words:  ^  Their  iniquity  whereby  they  have 
sinned  against  Me. '  .  .  .  *  Their  iniquity  whereby  they 
have  sinned,  and  whereby  they  have  transgressed  against 
Me. '  You  see  there  are  three  expressions  which  roughly 
may  be  taken  as  referring  to  the  same  ugly  fact,  but  yet 
not  meaning  quite  the  same — '  iniquity,  or  iniquities,  sin, 
transgression. '  These  three  all  speak  of  the  same  sad 
element  in  your  experience  and  mine,  but  they  speak  it 
from  somewhat  different  points  of  view,  and  I  wish  to 
try  to  bring  out  that  difference  for  you. 

Suppose  that  three  men  were  to  deacribe  a  snake. 
One  of  them  fixes  his  attention  on  its  slimy  coils,  and 
describes  its  sinuous  gliding  movements.  Another  of 
them  is  fascinated  by  its  wicked  beauty,  and  talks  about 
its  livid  markings  and  its  glittering  eye.  The  third 
thinks  only  of  the  swift-darting  fangs,  and  of  the  poison - 
glands.  They  all  three  describe  the  snake,  but  they  de- 
scribe it  from  different  points  of  view ;  and  so  it  is  here. 
'  Iniquity,'  '^sin,'  '  transgression  '  are  synonyms  to  some 
extent,  but  they  do  not  cover  the  same  ground.  They 
look  at  the  serpent  from  different  points  of  view. 

First,  a  sinful  life  is  a  twisted  or  warped  life.  The 
word  rendered  '  iniquity, '  in  the  Old  Testament,  in  all 
probability  literally  means  something  that  is  not  straight, 
but  is  bent,  or,  as  I  said,  twisted  or  warped.  That  is  a 
metaphor  that  runs  through  a  great  many  languages. 
I  suppose  '  right '  expresses  a  corresponding  image,  and 
means  that  which  is  straight  and  direct ;  and  I  suppose 
that  '  wrong '  has  something  to  do  with  '  wrung  ' — that 
which  has  been  forcibly  diverted  from  a  right  line.     We 


V.  8]  A  THREEFOLD  DISEASE  343 

all  know  the  conventional  colloquialism  about  a  man 
being  '  straight, '  and  such-and-such  a  thing  being  '  on 
the  straight.'  All  sin  is  a  twisting  of  the  man  from 
his  proper  course.  Now  there  underlies  that  metaphor 
the  notion  that  there  is  a  certain  line  to  which  we  are  to 
conform.  The  schoolmaster  draws  a  firm,  straight  line 
in  the  child's  copybook;  and  then  the  little  unaccustomed 
hand  takes  up  on  the  second  line  its  attempt,  and  makes 
tremulous,  wavering  pot-hooks  and  hangers.  There  is 
a  copyhead  for  us,  and  our  writing  is,  alas!  all  uneven 
and  irregular,  as  well  as  blurred  and  blotted.  There  is 
a  law,  and  you  know  it.  You  carry  in  yourself — I  was 
going  to  say,  the  standard  measure,  and  you  can  see 
whether  when  you  put  your  life  by  the  side  of  that,  the 
two  coincide.  It  is  not  for  me  to  say ;  I  know  about  my 
own,  and  you  may  know  about  yours,  if  you  will  be 
honest.     The  warped  life  belongs  to  us  all. 

The  metaphor  may  suggest  another  illustration.  A 
Czar  of  Russia  was  once  asked  what  should  be  the  course 
of  the  railway  from  St.  Petersburg  to  Moscow,  and  he 
took  up  a  ruler  and  drew  a  straight  line  upon  the  chart, 
and  said,  '  There ;  that  is  the  course. '  There  is  a  straight 
road  marked  out  for  us  all,  going,  like  the  old  Roman 
roads,  irrespective  of  physical  difficulties  in  the  contour 
of  the  country,  climbing  right  over  Alps  if  necessary, 
and  plunging  down  into  the  deepest  valleys,  never  de- 
flecting one  hairsbreadth,  but  going  straight  to  its  aim. 
And  we — what  are  we?  what  are  '  our  crooked,  wander- 
ing ways  in  which  we  live, '  by  the  side  of  that  straight 
path?  This  very  prophet  has  a  wonderful  illustration, 
in  which  he  compares  the  lives  of  men  who  have  departed 
from  God  to  the  racing  about  in  the  wilderness  of  a  wild 
dromedary,  '  entangling  her  ways, '  as  he  says,  crossing 


344         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxiii. 

and  recrossing,  and  getting  into  a  maze  of  perplexity. 
Ah,  my  friend,  is  that  not  something  like  your  life? 
Here  is  a  straight  road,  and  there  are  the  devious  foot- 
paths that  we  have  made,  with  many  a  detour,  many  a 
bend,  many  a  coming  back  instead  of  going  forward. 
'  The  labour  of  the  foolish  wearieth  every  one  of  them, 
because  he  knoweth  not  how  to  go  to  the  city. '  All  sin 
is  deflection  from  the  straight  road,  and  we  are  all  guilty 
of  that. 

Let  me  urge  you  to  consult  the  standard  that  you 
carry  within  yourselves.  If  you  never  have  done  it  be- 
fore, do  it  now ;  or,  better,  when  you  are  alone  by  your- 
selves. It  is  easy  to  imagine  that  a  line  is  straight.  But 
did  you  ever  see  the  point  of  a  needle  under  a  micro- 
scope? However  finely  it  is  polished,  and  apparently 
tapering  regularly,  the  scrutinising  investigation  of  the 
microscope  shows  that  it  is  all  rough  and  irregular. 
What  would  a  builder  do  if  he  had  not  a  T-square  and  a 
level?  His  wall  would  be  ever  so  far  out,  whilst  he 
thought  it  perfectly  perpendicular.  And  remember  that 
a  line  at  a  very  acute  angle  of  deflection  only  needs  to  be 
carried  out  far  enough  to  diverge  so  widely  from  the 
other  line  that  you  could  put  the  whole  solar  system  in 
between  the  two.  The  smallest  departure  from  the  line 
of  right  will  end,  unless  it  is  checked,  away  out  in  the 
regions  of  darkness  beyond.  That  is  the  lesson  of  the 
first  of  the  words  here. 

The  second  of  them,  rendered  in  our  version  '  sin, '  if  I 
may  recur  to  my  former  illustration,  looks  at  the  snake 
from  a  different  point  of  view,  and  it  declares  that  all 
sin  misses  the  aim.  The  meaning  of  the  word  in  the 
original  is  simply  '  that  which  misses  its  mark. '  And 
the  meaning  of  the  prevalent  word  in  the  New  Testa- 


V.  8]         A  THREEFOLD  DISEASE  345 

ment  for  '  sin '  means,  in  accordance  with  the  ethical 
wisdom  of  the  Greek,  the  same  thing.  Now,  there  are 
two  ways  in  which  that  thought  may  be  looked  at. 
Every  wrong  thing  that  we  do  misses  the  aim,  if  you 
consider  what  a  man's  aim  ought  to  be.  We  have 
grown  a  great  deal  wiser  than  the  Puritans  nowadays, 
and  people  make  cheap  reputations  for  advanced  thought 
by  depreciating  their  theology.  We  have  not  got  be- 
yond the  first  answer  of  the  Shorter  Catechism,  '  Man's 
chief  end  is  to  glorify  God,  and  to  enjoy  Him  for  ever.' 
That  is  the  only  aim  which  corresponds  to  our  constitu- 
tion, to  our  circumstances.  A  palaeontologist  will  pick 
up  part  of  a  skeleton  embedded  in  the  rocks,  and  from 
the  study  of  a  bone  or  two  will  tell  you  whether  that 
creature  was  meant  to  swim,  or  to  fly,  or  to  walk; 
whether  its  element  was  sea,  or  sky,  or  land.  Our  des- 
tination for  God  is  as  plainly  stamped  on  heart,  mind, 
will,  practical  powers,  as  is  the  destination  of  such  a 
creature  deducible  from  its  skeleton.  '  Whose  image  and 
superscription  hath  it?  '  God's,  stamped  deep  upon  us 
all.  And  so,  brother,  whatever  you  win,  unless  you  win 
God,  you  have  missed  the  aim.  Anything  short  of 
knowing  Him  and  loving  Him,  serving  Him,  being  filled 
and  inspired  by  Him,  is  contrary  to  the  destiny  stamped 
upon  us  all.  And  if  you  have  won  God,  then,  whatever 
other  human  prizes  you  may  have  missed,  you  have  made 
the  best  of  life.  Unless  He  is  yours,  and  you  are  His, 
you  have  made  a  miss,  and  if  I  might  venture  to  add,  a 
mess,  of  yourself  and  of  your  life. 

Then  there  is  another  side  to  this.  The  solemn  teach- 
ing of  this  word  is  not  confined  to  that  thought,  but  also 
opens  out  into  this  other,  that  all  godlessness,  all  the 
low,  sinful  lives  that  so  many  of  us  live,  miss  the  shabby 


346         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxiii. 

aim  which  they  set  before  themselves.  I  do  not  believe 
that  any  men  or  women  ever  got  as  much  good,  even  of 
the  lowest  kind,  out  of  a  wrong  thing  as  they  expected 
to  get  when  they  ventured  on  it.  If  they  did,  they  got 
something  else  along  with  it  that  took  all  the  gilt  off  the 
gingerbread.  Take  the  lowest  kind  of  gross  evil — sins 
®f  lust  or  of  drunkenness.  Well,  no  doubt  the  physical 
satisfaction  desired  is  secured.  Yes;  and  what  about 
what  comes  after,  in  addition,  that  was  not  aimed  at? 
The  drunkard  gets  his  pleasurable  oblivion,  his  desired 
excitement.  What  about  the  corrugated  liver,  the  pal- 
sied hand,  the  watery  eye,  the  wrecked  life,  the  broken 
hearts  at  home,  and  all  the  other  accompaniments? 
There  is  an  old  Greek  legend  about  a  certain  messenger 
that  came  to  earth  with  a  box,  in  which  were  all  manner 
of  pleasant  gifts,  and  down  at  the  bottom  was  a  speckled 
pest  that,  when  the  box  was  emptied,  crawled  out  into 
the  sunshine  and  infected  the  land.  That  Pandora's  box 
is  like  '  the  good  things  '  that  sin  brings  to  men.  You 
gain,  perhaps,  your  advantage,  and  you  get  something 
that  spoils  it  all.  Is  not  that  your  experience?  I  do  not 
deny  that  you  may  satisfy  your  lower  desires  by  a  god- 
less life.  I  know  only  too  well  how  hard  it  is  to  get  people 
to  have  higher  tastes,  and  how  all  we  ministers  of  religion 
are  spending  our  efforts  in  order  to  win  people  to  love 
something  better  than  the  world  can  give  them.  I  also 
know  that,  if  I  could  get  to  the  very  deepest  recess  of 
your  hearts,  you  would  admit  that  pleasures  or  advan- 
tages that  are  complete,  that  is  to  say,  that  satisfy 
you  all  round,  and  that  are  lasting,  and  that  can 
front  conscience  and  God  who  is  at  the  back  of  con- 
science, are  not  to  be  won  on  the  paths  of  sin  and  god- 
lessness. 


V.  8]  A  THREEFOLD  DISEASE  347 

There  is  an  old  story  that  speaks  of  a  knight  and  his 
company  who  were  travelling  through  a  desert,  and  sud- 
denly beheld  a  castle  into  which  they  were  invited  and 
hospitably  welcomed.  A  feast  was  spread  before  them, 
and  each  man  ate  and  drank  his  fill.  But  as  soon  as 
they  left  the  enchanted  halls,  they  were  as  hungry  as 
before  they  sat  at  the  magic  table.  That  is  the  kind  of 
food  that  all  our  wrongdoing  provides  for  us.  'He  feed- 
eth  on  ashes, '  and  hungers  after  he  has  fed.  So,  dear 
friends,  learn  this  ancient  wisdom,  which  is  as  true  to- 
day as  it  ever  was ;  and  be  sure  of  this,  that  there  is  only 
one  course  in  this  world  which  will  give  a  man  true, 
lasting  satisfaction ;  that  there  is  only  one  life,  the  life 
of  obedience  to  and  love  of  God,  about  which,  at  the  end, 
there  will  not  need  to  be  said,  '  This  their  way  is  their 
folly.' 

And  now,  further,  there  is  yet  another  word  here, 
carrying  with  it  important  lessons.  The  expression 
which  is  translated  in  our  text  '  transgressed, '  literally 
means  '  rebelled. '  And  the  lesson  of  it  is,  that  all  sin 
is,  however  little  we  think  it,  a  rebellion  against  God. 
That  introduces  a  yet  graver  thought  than  either  of  the 
former  have  brought  us  face  to  face  with.  Behind  the 
law  is  the  Lawgiver.  When  we  do  wrong,  we  not  only 
blunder,  we  not  only  go  aside  from  the  right  line,  but 
also  we  lift  up  ourselves  against  our  Sovereign  King, 
and  we  say,  '  Who  is  the  Lord  that  we  should  serve 
Him?  Our  tongues  are  our  own.  Who  is  Lord  over 
us?  Let  us  break  His  bands  asunder,  and  cast  away  His 
cords  from  us. '  There  are  crimes  against  law ;  there  are 
faults  against  one  another.  Sins  are  against  God ;  and, 
dear  friends,  though  you  do  not  realise  it,  this  is  plain 
truth,  that  the  essence,  the  common  characteristic,  of  all 


348         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxiii. 

the  acts  which,  as  we  have  seen,  are  twisted  and  foohsh, 
is  that  in  them  we  are  setting  up  another  than  the  Lord 
our  God  to  be  our  ruler.  We  are  enthroning  ourselves 
in  His  place.  Do  you  not  feel  that  that  is  true,  and  that 
in  some  small  thing  in  which  you  go  wrong,  the  essence 
of  it  is  that  you  are  seeking  to  please  yourself,  no  matter 
what  duty — which  is  only  a  heathen  name  for  God — says 
to  you  ? 

Does  not  that  thought  make  all  these  apparently  trivial 
and  insignificant  deeds  terribly  important?  Treason  is 
treason,  no  matter  what  the  act  by  which  it  is  expressed. 
It  may  be  a  little  thing  to  haul  down  a  union-jack  from 
a  flagstaff,  or  to  tear  off  a  barn-door  a  proclamation  with 
the  royal  arms  at  the  top  of  it,  but  it  may  be  rebellion. 
And  if  it  is,  it  is  as  bad  as  to  turn  out  a  hundred  thou- 
sand men  in  the  field,  with  arms  in  their  hands.  There 
are  small  faults,  there  are  trivial  crimes;  there  are  no 
small  sins.  An  ounce  of  arsenic  is  arsenic,  just  as  much 
as  a  ton ;  and  it  is  a  poison  just  as  surely. 

Now  I  have  enlarged  perhaps  unduly  on  this  earlier 
part  of  my  subject,  and  can  but  briefly  turn  to  the  sec- 
ond division  which  I  suggested,  viz. : — 

II.  The  twofold  bright  hope  which  shines  through  this 
darkness. 

'  I  will  cleanse  ...  I  will  pardon.' 

If  sin  combines  in  itself  all  these  characteristics  that  I 
have  touched  upon,  then  clearly  there  is  guilt,  and 
clearly  there  are  stains ;  and  the  gracious  promise  of  this 
text  deals  with  both  the  one  and  the  other. 

'  I  will  pardon.'  What  is  pardon?  Do  not  limit  it  to 
the  analogy  of  a  criminal  court.  When  the  law  of  the 
land  pardons,  or  rather  when  the  administrator  of  the 
law  pardons,  that  simply  means  that  the  penalty  is  sus- 


V.  8]  A  THREEFOLD  DISEASE  349 

pended.  But  is  that  forgiveness?  Certainly  it  is  only 
a  part  of  it,  even  if  it  is  a  part.  What  do  you  fathers 
and  mothers  do  when  you  forgive  your  child?  You  may 
use  the  rod  or  you  may  not,  that  is  a  question  of  what  is 
best  for  the  child.  Forgiveness  does  not  lie  in  letting 
him  off  the  punishment ;  but  forgiveness  lies  in  the  flow- 
ing to  the  child,  uninterrupted,  of  the  love  of  the  parent 
heart,  and  that  is  God's  forgiveness.  Penalties,  some  of 
them,  remain — thank  God  for  it !  '  Thou  wast  a  God 
that  forgavest  them,  though  Thou  tookest  vengeance  of 
their  inventions, '  and  the  chastisement  was  part  of  the 
sign  of  the  forgiveness.  The  great  penalty  of  all,  which 
is  separation  from  God,  is  taken  away ;  but  the  essence 
of  that  pardon,  which  it  is  my  blessed  work  to  proclaim 
to  all  men,  is,  that  in  spite  of  the  prodigal's  rags  and 
the  stench  of  the  sty,  the  Father's  love  is  round  about 
him.     It  is  round  about  you,  brother. 

Do  you  need  pardon?  Do  you  not?  What  does  con- 
science say?  What  does  the  sense  of  remorse  that  some- 
times blesses  you,  though  it  tortures,  say?  There  are 
tendencies  in  this  generation,  as  always,  but  very  strong 
at  present,  to  ignore  the  fact  that  all  sin  must  necessari- 
ly lead  to  tremendous  consequences  of  misery.  It  does 
so  in  this  world,  more  or  less.  A  man  goes  into  another 
world  as  he  left  this  one,  and  you  and  I  believe  that 
'  after  death  is  the  judgment.'  Do  you  not  require  par- 
don? And  how  are  you  to  get  it?  '  Himself  bore  our 
sins  in  His  own  body  on  the  tree. '  Jesus  Christ,  the 
Son  of  God,  died  that  the  loving  forgiveness  of  God 
might  find  its  way  to  every  heart,  and  might  take  all 
men  to  its  bosom,  whilst  yet  the  righteousness  of  God 
remained  untarnished.  I  know  not  any  gospel  that  goes 
deep  enough  to  touch  the  real  sore  place  in  human  na- 


350        THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxiii. 

ture,  except  the  gospel  that  says  to  you  and  me  and  all 
of  us,  '  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  that  taketh  away  the 
sin  of  the  world.' 

But  forgiveness  is  not  enough,  for  the  worst  results  of 
past  sin  are  the  habits  of  sin  which  it  leaves  within  us ; 
so  that  we  all  need  cleansing.  Can  we  cleanse  our- 
selves? Let  experience  answer.  Did  you  ever  try  to 
cure  yourself  of  some  little  trick  of  gesture,  or  manner, 
or  speech?  And  did  you  not  find  out  then  how  strong 
the  trivial  habit  was?  You  never  know  the  force  of  a 
current  till  you  try  to  row  against  it.  '  Can  the  Ethi- 
opian change  his  skin?  '  No ;  but  God  can  change  it  for 
him.  So,  again,  we  say  that  Jesus  Christ  who  died  for 
'  the  remission  of  sins  that  are  past, '  lives  that  He  may 
give  to  each  of  us  His  own  blessed  life  and  power,  and  so 
draw  us  from  our  evil,  and  invest  us  in  His  good.  Dear 
brother,  I  beseech  you  to  look  in  the  face  the  fact  of 
your  rebellion,  of  your  missing  your  aim,  of  your  per- 
verted life,  and  to  ask  yourself  the  question,  '  Can  I  deal 
either  with  the  guilt  of  the  past,  or  with  the  imperative 
tendency  to  repeated  sin  in  the  future?  '  You  may  have 
your  leprous  flesh  made  '  like  the  flesh  of  a  little  child.' 
You  may  have  your  stained  robe  washed  and  made  lus- 
trous '  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb. '  Pardon  and 
cleansing  are  our  two  deepest  needs.  There  is  one  hand 
from  which  we  can  receive  them  both,  and  one  only. 
There  is  one  condition  on  which  we  shall  receive  them, 
which  is  that  we  trust  in  Him,  *  Who  was  crucified  for 
our  offences,  and  lives  to  hallow  us  into  His  own  like- 
ness. ' 


THE  RECHABTTES 

'  The  sons  of  Jonadab  the  son  of  Rechab  have  performed  the  command- 
ment of  their  father,  which  he  commanded  them;  but  this  people  have 
not  hearkened  unto  Me.' — Jer.  xxxv.  16. 

The  Rechabites  had  lived  a  nomad  life,  dwelling  in  tents, 
not  practising  agriculture,  abstaining  from  intoxicants. 
They  were  therein  obeying  the  command  of  their  ances- 
tor, Jonadab.  They  had  been  driven  by  the  Babylonian 
invasion  to  take  refuge  in  Jerusalem,  and,  no  doubt, 
were  a  nine  days'  wonder  there,  with  their  strange 
ways.  Jeremiah  seized  on  their  loyalty  to  their  dead 
ancestor's  command  as  an  object-lesson,  by  which  he  put 
a  still  sharper  edge  on  his  rebukes.  The  Rechabites  gave 
their  ancestral  law  an  obedience  which  shamed  Judah's 
disobedience  to  Jehovah.  God  asks  from  us  only  what 
we  are  willing  to  give  to  one  another,  and  God  is  often 
refused  what  men  have  but  to  ask  and  it  is  given.  The 
virtues  which  we  exercise  to  each  other  rebuke  us,  be- 
cause we  so  often  refuse  to  exercise  them  towards  God. 

I.  Men's  love  to  men  condemns  their  lovelessness 
towards  God. 

These  Rechabites  witnessed  to  the  power  of  loyal  love 
to  their  ancestor.  Think  of  the  wealth  of  love  which  we 
have  all  poured  out  on  husbands,  wives,  parents,  chil- 
dren, and  of  the  few  drops  that  we  have  diverted  to  flow 
towards  God,  What  a  full  flood  fills  the  one  channel ; 
what  a  shrunken  stream  the  other! 

Think  of  the  infinitely  stronger  reasons  for  loving  God 
than  for  loving  our  dearest. 

II.  Men's  faith  in  men  condemns  their  distrust  of 
God. 

361 


352         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxv. 

However  you  define  faith,  you  find  it  abundantly  ex- 
ercised by  us  on  the  low  plane  of  earthly  relations.  Is 
it  belief  in  testimony  ?  You  men  of  business  regulate 
your  course  by  reports  of  markets  on  the  other  side  of 
the  world,  and  in  a  hundred  ways  extend  your  credence 
to  common  report,  with  but  little,  and  often  with  no  ex- 
amination of  the  evidence.  '  If  we  believe  the  witness 
of  men,  the  witness  of  God  is  greater.'  And  how  do 
we  treat  it  ?  We  are  ready  to  accept  and  to  act  on  men's 
testimony;  we  are  slow  to  believe  God's,  and  still  slower 
to  act  on  it,  and  to  let  it  mould  our  lives. 

Is  faith  the  realising  of  the  unseen?  We  exercise  it  in 
reference  to  the  earthly  unseen ;  we  are  slow  to  do  so  in 
reference  to  the  heavenly  things  which  are  invisible. 

Is  faith  the  act  of  trust?  Life  is  impossible  without  it. 
Not  only  is  commerce  a  great  system  of  credit,  but  no 
relations  of  life  could  last  for  a  day  without  mutual  con- 
fidence. We  depend  on  one  another,  like  a  row  of 
slightly  built  houses  that  help  to  hold  each  other  up. 
These  earthly  exercises  of  trust  should  make  it  easier  for 
us  to  rise  to  trusting  God  as  much  as  we  do  each  other. 
They  ought  to  reveal  to  us  the  heavenly  things.  For 
indeed  our  human  trust  in  one  another  should  be  a  sam- 
ple and  shadow  of  our  wise  trust  in  the  adequate  Object 
of  trust. 

in.  Men's  obedience  to  human  authority  condemns 
their  rebellion  against  God, 

Jonadab's  commandment  evoked  implicit  obedience 
from  his  descendants  for  generations.  Side  by  side  in 
man's  strange  nature,  with  his  self-will  and  love  of  in- 
dependence, lies  an  equally  strong  tendency  to  obey  and 
follow  any  masterful  voice  that  speaks  loudly  and  with 
an  assumption  of  authority.     The  opinions  of  a  clique, 


V.  16]       JEREMIAH'S  ROLL  BURNED         353 

the  dogmas  of  a  sect,  the  habits  of  a  set,  the  sayings  of 
a  favourite  author,  the  fashions  of  our  class — all  these 
rule  men  with  a  sway  far  more  absolute  than  is  exercised 
on  them  by  the  known  will  of  God.  The  same  man  is  a 
slave  to  usurped  authority  and  a  rebel  against  rightful 
and  divine  dominion. 

Whether  we  consider  the  law  of  God  in  its  claims  or 
its  contents,  or  its  ultimate  object,  it  is  worthy  of  entire 
obedience.     And  what  does  it  receive? 

God  asks  from  us  only  what  we  willingly  give  to  men. 
Even  the  qualities  and  acts,  such  as  love,  trust,  obedi- 
ence, which  as  exercised  towards  men  give  dignity 
and  beauty  and  strength,  rise  up  in  judgment  to  con- 
demn us.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  Augustine's  often- 
denounced  saying  that  they  are  '  splendid  vices  '  is  true, 
for  they  are  turned  in  the  wrong  direction,  and  very 
often  their  being  directed  so  completely  towards  men  and 
women  is  the  reason  why  they  are  not  directed  towards 
God,  who  alone  deserves  and  alone  can  satisfy  and  re- 
ward them.     Then  they  become  sins  and  condemn  us. 


JEREMIAH'S  ROLL  BURNED  AND  REPRODUCED 

'Then  took  Jeremiah  another  roll,  and  gave  it  to  Baruch  .  .  .  who 
wrote  therein  ...  all  the  words  of  the  book  which  Jehoiakim  king  of 
Judah  had  burned  in  the  fire,  and  there  were  added  besides  unto  them 
many  like  words.' — Jer.  xxxvi.  32. 

This  story  brings  us  into  the  presence  of  the  long  death 
agony  of  the  Jewish  monarchy.  The  wretched  Jehoia- 
kim, the  last  king  but  two  who  reigned  in  Jerusalem, 
was  put  on  the  throne  by  the  King  of  Egypt,  as  his  trib- 
utary, and  used  by  him  as  a  buffer  to  bear  the  brunt  of 
the  Babylonian  invasion.     He  seems  to  have  had  all  the 

VOL.   11.  z. 


354         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxvi. 

vices  of  Eastern  sovereigns.  He  was  covetous,  cruel, 
tyrannous,  lawless,  heartless,  senseless.  He  was  lav- 
ishing  money  on  a  grand  palace,  built  with  cedar  and 
painted  in  vermilion,  when  the  nation  was  in  its  death- 
throes.  He  had  neither  valour  nor  goodness,  and  so  lit- 
tle did  he  understand  the  forces  at  work  in  his  times  that 
he  held  by  the  rotten  support  of  Egypt  against  the  grim 
power  of  Babylon,  and  of  course,  when  the  former  was 
driven  like  chaff  before  the  assault  of  the  latter,  he 
shared  the  fate  of  his  principal,  and  Judaea  was  overrun 
by  Babylon,  Jerusalem  captured,  and  the  poor  creature 
on  the  throne  bound  in  chains  to  be  carried  to  Babylon, 
but,  as  would  appear,  discovered  by  Nebuchadnezzar  to 
be  pliable  enough  to  make  it  safe  to  leave  him  behind, 
as  his  vassal.  His  capture  took  place  but  a  few  months 
after  the  incident  with  which  I  am  dealing  now.  It 
would  appear  probable  that  the  confusion  and  alarm  of 
the  Babylonian  assault  on  Egypt  had  led  to  a  solemn 
fast  in  Jerusalem,  at  which  the  nation  assembled.  Jere- 
miah, who  had  been  prophesying  for  some  thirty  years, 
and  had  already  been  in  peril  of  his  life  from  the  godless 
tyrant  on  the  throne,  was  led  to  collect,  in  one  book,  his 
scattered  prophecies  and  read  them  in  the  ears  of  the 
people  gathered  for  the  fast.  That  reading  had  no  effect 
at  all  on  the  people.  The  roll  was  then  read  to  the 
princes,  and  in  them  roused  fear  and  interested  curiosity, 
and  kindly  desire  for  the  safety  of  Jeremiah  and  Baruch, 
his  amanuensis.  It  wa3  next  read  to  the  king,  and  he 
cut  the  roll  leaf  by  leaf  and  threw  it  on  the  brasier,  not 
afraid,  nor  penitent,  but  enraged  and  eager  to  capture 
Jeremiah  and  Baruch.  The  burnt  roll  was  reproduced 
by  God's  command,  '  and  there  were  added  besides  .  .  . 
many  like  words. ' 


V.  32]      JEREMIAH'S  ROLL  BURNED         355 

I.  The  lovo  of  God  necessarily  prophesying  evil. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  prophets  of  the  Old  Testament 
were  all  prophets  of  evil.  They  were  watchmen  seeing 
the  sword  and  giving  warning.  No  one  ever  spoke  more 
plainly  of  the  penalties  of  sin  than  did  Christ.  The 
authoritative  revelation  of  the  consequences  of  wrong- 
doing is  an  integral  part  of  the  gospel. 

It  is  not  the  highest  form  of  appeal.  It  would  be 
higher  to  say,  '  Do  right  because  it  is  right ;  love  Christ 
because  Christ  is  lovely. '  The  purpose  of  such  an  ap- 
peal is  to  prepare  us  for  the  true  gospel.  But  the  appeal 
to  a  reasonable  self-love,  by  warnings  of  the  death  which 
is  the  wages  of  sin,  is  perfectly  legitimate.  Dehortations 
from  sin  on  the  ground  of  its  consequences  is  part  of 
God's  message. 

Further,  the  warning  comes  from  love.  Punishment 
must  needs  follow  on  sin.  Even  His  love  must  compel 
God  to  punish,  and  to  warn  before  He  does.  Surely  that 
is  kind.  His  punishments  are  made  known  beforehand 
that  we  may  be  sure  that  caprice  and  anger  have  no  part 
in  inflicting  them,  but  that  they  are  the  settled  order  of 
an  inviolable  law,  and  constitutional  procedure  of  a  just 
kind.  Whether  is  it  better  to  live  under  a  despot  who 
smites  as  he  will,  or  under  a  constitutional  king  whose 
code  is  made  public. 

Surely  it  is  needful  to  have  clearly  set  forth  the  conse- 
quences of  sin,  in  view  of  the  sophistries  buzzing  round 
us  all  and  nestling  in  our  own  hearts,  of  the  deceitfulness 
of  sin,  of  siren  voices  whispering,  '  Ye  shall  not  surely 
die.' 

God's  prophecies  of  evil  are  all  conditional.  They  are 
sent  on  purpose  that  they  may  not  be  fulfilled. 

II.  The  loving  warnings  disregarded  and  disliked. 


356         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxvi. 

Jehoiakim's  behaviour  is  very  human  and  like  what 
we  all  do.  We  see  the  same  thing  repeated  in  all  simi- 
lar crises.  Cassandra.  Jewish  prophets.  Christ. 
English  Commonwealth.  French  Eevolution.  Blind- 
ness to  all  signs  and  hostility  to  the  men  that  warn. 

We  see  it  in  the  attitude  to  the  gospel  revelation. 
The  Scripture  doctrine  of  punishment  always  rouses  an- 
tagonism, and  in  this  day  revolts  men.  There  is  much 
in  present  tendencies  to  weaken  the  idea  of  future  retri- 
bution. Modern  philanthropy  makes  it  hard  sometimes 
to  administer  even  human  laws.  The  feeling  is  good, 
but  this  exaggeration  of  it  bad.  It  is  a  reaction  to  some 
extent  against  an  unchristian  way  of  preaching  Chris- 
tian truth,  but  even  admitting  that,  it  still  remains  true 
that  an  integral  part  of  the  Christian  revelation  is  the 
revelation  of  death  as  the  wages  of  sin. 

We  see  the  same  recoil  of  feeling  operating  in  individ- 
ual cases.  How  many  of  you  are  quite  indifferent  to  the 
preaching  of  a  judgment  to  come,  or  only  conscious  of 
a  movement  of  dislike!  But  how  foolish  this  is!  If  a 
man  builds  a  house  on  a  volcano,  is  it  not  kind  to  tell 
him  that  the  lava  is  creeping  over  the  side?  Is  it  not 
kind  to  wake,  even  violently,  a  traveller  who  has  fallen 
asleep  on  the  snow,  before  drowsiness  stiffens  into 
death? 

III.  The  impotent  rejection  and  attempted  destruction 
of  the  message. 

The  roll  is  destroyed,  but  it  is  renewed.  You  do  not 
alter  facts  by  neglecting  them,  nor  abrogate  a  divine 
decree  by  disbelieving  it.  The  awful  law  goes  on  its 
course.  It  is  not  pre-eminent  seamanship  to  put  the 
look-out  man  in  irons  because  he  sings  out,  '  Breakers 
ahead. '     The  crew  do  not  abolish  the  reef  so,  but  they 


V.  32]  ZEDEKIAH  357 

end  their  last  chance  of  avoiding  it,  and  presently  the 
shock  comes,  and  the  cruel  coral  tears  through  the 
hull. 

IV.    The  neglected  message  made  harder  and  heavier. 

Every  rejection  makes  a  man  more  obdurate.  Every 
rejection  increases  criminality,  and  therefore  increases 
punishment.  Every  rejection  brings  the  punishment 
nearer. 

The  increased  severity  of  the  message  comes  from 
love. 

Oh,  think  of  the  infinite  '  treasures  of  darkness  '  which 
God  has  in  reserve,  and  let  the  words  of  warning  lead 
you  to  Jesus,  that  you  may  only  hear  and  never  experi- 
ence the  judgments  of  which  they  warn.  Give  Christ 
the  roll  of  judgment  and  He  will  destroy  it,  nailing  it 
to  His  cross,  and  instead  of  it  will  give  you  a  book  full 
of  blessing. 

ZEDEKIAH 

'Zedekiah  the  son  of  Josiah  reigned  as  king  .  .  .  whom  Nebuchadnez- 
zar king  of  Babylon  made  king.' — Jer.  xxxvii.  1. 

Zedekiah  was  a  small  man  on  a  great  stage,  a  weakling 
set  to  face  circumstances  that  would  have  taxed  the 
strongest.  He  was  a  youth  at  his  accession  to  the  throne 
of  a  distracted  kingdom,  and  if  he  had  had  any  political 
insight  he  would  have  seen  that  his  only  chance  was  to 
adhere  firmly  to  Babylon,  and  to  repress  the  foolish  aris- 
tocracy who  hankered  after  alliance  with  the  rival  power 
of  Egypt.  He  was  mad  enough  to  form  an  alliance  with 
the  latter,  which  was  construcftive  rebellion  against  the 
former,  and  was  strongly  reprobated  by  Jeremiah, 
Swift   vengeance  followed;   the  country  was  ravaged. 


358         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxvii. 

Zedekiah  in  his  fright  implored  Jeremiah's  prayers  and 
made  faint  efforts  to  follow  his  counsels.  The  pressure 
of  invasion  was  lifted,  and  immediately  he  forgot  his  ter- 
rors and  forsook  the  prophet.  The  Babylonian  army  was 
back  next  year,  and  the  final  investment  of  Jerusalem 
began.  The  siege  lasted  sixteen  months,  and  during 
it,  Zedekiah  miserably  vacillated  between  listening  to 
the  prophet's  counsels  of  surrender  and  the  truculent  no- 
bles' advice  to  resist  to  the  last  gasp.  The  miseries  of 
the  siege  live  for  ever  in  the  Book  of  Lamentations. 
Mothers  boiled  their  children,  nobles  hunted  on  dung- 
hills for  food.  Their  delicate  complexions  were  burned 
black,  and  famine  turned  them  into  living  skeletons. 
Then,  on  a  long  summer  day  in  July  came  the  end.  The 
king  tried  to  skulk  out  by  a  covered  way  between  the 
walls,  his  few  attendants  deserted  him  in  his  flight,  he 
was  caught  at  last  down  by  the  fords  of  the  Jordan,  car- 
ried prisoner  to  Nebuchadnezzar  at  Eiblah  away  up  in 
the  north  beyond  Baalbec,  and  there  saw  his  sons  slain 
before  his  eyes,  and,  as  soon  as  he  had  seen  that  last 
sight,  was  blinded,  fettered,  and  carried  off  to  Babylon, 
where  he  died.  His  career  teaches  us  lessons  which  I 
may  now  seek  to  bring  out. 

I.  A  weak  character  is  sure  to  become  a  wicked  one. 

Moral  weakness  and  inability  to  resist  strong  pressure 
was  the  keynote  of  Zedekiah 's  character.  There  were 
good  things  in  him;  he  had  kindly  impulses,  as  was 
shown  in  his  emancipation  of  the  slaves  at  a  crisis  of 
Jerusalem's  fate.  Left  to  himself,  he  would  at  least 
have  treated  Jeremiah  kindly,  and  did  rescue  him  from 
lingering  death  in  the  foul  dungeon  to  which  the  rufiSan 
nobility  had  consigned  him,  and  he  provided  for  his  being 
at  least  saved  from  dying  of  starvation  during  the  siege. 


V.  1]  ZEDEKIAH  359 

He  listened  to  him  secretly,  and  would  have  accepted  his 
counsel  if  he  had  dared.  But  he  yielded  to  the  stronger 
wills  of  the  nobles,  though  he  sometimes  bitterly  resented 
their  domination,  and  complained  that  '  the  king  is  not 
he  that  can  do  anything  against  you. ' 

Like  most  weak  men,  he  found  that  temptations  to  do 
wrong  abounded  more  than  visible  inducements  to  do 
right,  and  he  was  afraid  to  do  right,  and  fancied  that 
he  was  compelled  by  the  force  of  circumstances  to  do 
wrong.  So  he  drifted  and  drifted,  and  at  last  was 
smashed  to  fragments  on  the  rocks,  as  all  men  are  who 
do  not  keep  a  strong  hand  on  the  helm  and  a  steady  eye 
on  the  compass.  The  winds  are  good  servants  but  bad 
masters.  If  we  do  not  coerce  circumstances  to  carry  us 
on  the  course  which  conscience  has  pricked  out  on  the 
chart,  they  will  wreck  us. 

II.  A  man  may  have  a  good  deal  of  religion  and  yet 
not  enough  to  mould  his  life. 

Zedekiah  listened  to  the  prophet  by  fits  and  starts.  He 
was  eager  to  have  the  benefit  of  the  prophet's  pray- 
ers. He  liberated  the  slaves  in  Jerusalem.  He  came 
secretly  to  Jeremiah  more  than  once  to  know  if  there 
were  any  message  from  God  for  him.  Yet  he  had 
not  faith  enough  nor  submission  enough  to  let  the 
known  will  of  God  rule  his  conduct,  whatever  the  nobles 
might  say. 

Are  there  not  many  of  us  who  have  a  belief  in  God 
and  a  general  acquiescence  in  Christ's  precepts,  who 
order  our  lives  now  and  then  by  these,  and  yet  have  not 
come  up  to  the  point  of  full  and  final  surrender?  Alas, 
alas,  for  the  multitudes  who  are  '  not  far  from  the  king- 
dom, '  but  who  never  come  near  enough  to  be  actually 
in  it!     To  be  not  far  from  is  to  be  out  of,  and  to  be  out 


360         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxvii. 

of  is  to  be,  like  Zedekiah,  blinded  and  captived  and  dead 
in  prison  at  last. 

III.  God's  love  is  wonderfully  patient. 

Jeremiah  was  to  Zedekiah  the  incarnation  of  God's 
unwearied  pleadings.  During  his  whole  reign,  the 
prophet's  voice  sounded  in  his  ears,  through  all  the 
clamours  and  cries  of  factions,  and  mingled  at  last  with 
the  shouts  of  the  besiegers  and  the  groans  of  the 
wounded,  like  the  sustained  note  of  some  great  organ, 
persisting  through  a  babel  of  discordant  noises.  It  was 
met  with  indifference,  and  it  sounded  on.  It  provoked 
angry  antagonism  and  still  it  spoke.  Violence  was  used 
to  stifle  it  in  vain.  And  it  was  not  only  Jeremiah's  cour- 
ageous pertinacity  that  spoke  through  that  persistent 
voice,  but  God's  unwearied  love,  which  being  rejected  is 
not  driven  away,  being  neglected  becomes  more  beseech- 
ing, '  is  not  easily  provoked '  to  cease  its  efforts,  but 
'  beareth  all '  despite,  and  hopeth  for  softened  hearts  till 
the  last  moment  before  doom  falls. 

That  patient  love  pleads  with  each  of  us  as  persistently 
as  Jeremiah  did  with  Zedekiah. 

IV.  The  long-delayed  judgment  falls  at  last. 

With  infinite  reluctance  the  divine  love  .had  to  do  what 
God  Himself  has  called  '  His  strange  work. '  Divine  Jus- 
tice travels  slowly,  but  arrives  at  last.  Her  foot  is 
*  leaden  '  both  in  regard  to  its  tardiness  and  its  weight. 
There  is  no  ground  in  the  long  postponement  of  retribu- 
tion for  the  fond  dream  that  it  will  never  come,  though 
men  lull  themselves  to  sleep  with  that  lie.  '  Because 
sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily, 
therefore  the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  throughly  set  in 
them  to  do  evil. '  But  the  sentence  will  be  executed. 
The  pleading  love,  which  has  for  many  returning  au- 


V.l] 


THE  WORLD'S  WAGES  361 


tumns  spared  the  barren  tree  and  sought  to  make  it  fit 
to  bear  fruit,  does  not  prevent  the  owner  saying  at  last 
to  his  servant  with  the  axe  in  his  hand,  'Now!  thou 
shalt  cut  it  down. ' 

THE   WORLD'S    WAGES  TO  A  PROPHET 

'And  it  came  to  pass,  that  when  the  army  of  the  Chaldeans  was  broken 
up  from  Jerusalem  for  fear  of  Pharaoh's  arm,  12.  Then  Jeremiah  went 
forth  out  of  Jerusalem  to  go  into  the  land  of  Benjamin,  to  separate  him- 
self thence  in  the  midst  of  the  people.  13.  And  when  he  was  in  the  gate 
of  Benjamin,  a  captain  of  the  ward  was  there,  whose  name  was  Irijah,  the 
son  of  Shelemiah,  the  son  of  Hananiah;  and  he  took  Jeremiah  the  prophet, 
saying.  Thou  fallest  away  to  the  Chaldeans.  14.  Then  said  Jeremiah,  It 
is  false;  I  fall  not  away  to  the  Chaldeans.  But  he  hearkened  not  to  him; 
so  Irijah  took  Jeremiah,  and  brought  hirn  to  the  princes.  15.  Wherefore 
the  princes  were  wroth  with  Jeremiah,  and  smote  him,  and  put  him  in 
prison  in  the  house  of  Jonathan  the  scribe:  for  they  had  made  that  the 
prison.  16.  When  Jeremiah  was  entered  into  the  dungeon,  and  into  the 
cabins,  and  Jeremiah  had  remained  there  many  days;  17.  Then  Zedekiah 
the  king  sent,  and  took  him  out:  and  the  king  asked  him  secretly  in  his 
house,  and  said,  Is  there  any  word  from  the  Lord?  And  Jeremiah  said, 
There  is :  for,  said  he,  thou  shalt  be  delivered  into  the  hand  of  the  king  of 
Babylon.  18.  Moreover,  Jeremiah  said  unto  king  Zedekiah,  What  have 
I  offended  against  thee,  or  against  thy  servants,  or  against  this  people,  that 
ye  have  put  me  in  prison?  19.  Where  are  now  your  prophets  which  proph- 
esied unto  you,  saying.  The  king  of  Babylon  shall  not  come  against  you, 
nor  against  this  land?  20.  Therefore  hear  now,  I  pray  thee,  O  my  lord  the 
king:  let  my  supplication,  I  pray  thee,  be  accepted  before  thee;  that  thou 
cause  me  not  to  return  to  the  house  of  Jonathan  the  scribe,  lest  I  die 
there.  21.  Then  Zedekiah  the  king  commanded  that  they  should  commit 
Jeremiah  into  the  court  of  the  prison,  and  that  they  should  give  him  daily 
a  piece  of  bread  out  of  the  bakers'  street,  until  all  the  bread  in  the  city  were 
spent.  Thus  Jeremiah  remained  in  the  court  of  the  prison.' — Jer.  xxxvii. 
11-21. 

Some  sixteen  years  had  passed  since  Jehoiakim  had 
burned  the  roll,  during  all  of  which  the  slow  gathering 
of  the  storm,  which  was  to  break  over  the  devoted  city, 
had  been  going  on,  and  Jeremiah  had  been  vainly  call- 
ing on  the  people  to  return  to  Jehovah.  The  last  agony 
was  now  not  far  off.  But  there  came  a  momentary 
pause  in  the  siege,  produced  by  the  necessity  of  an  ad- 
vance against  a  relieving  army  from  Egypt,  which  cre- 
ated fallacious  hopes  in  the  doomed  city.  It  was  only  a 
pause.     Back  came  the  investing  force,  and  again  the 


362         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxvii. 

terrible,  lingering  process  of  starving  into  surrender 
was  resumed.  Our  text  begins  with  the  raising  of  the 
siege,  and  extends  to  some  point  after  its  resumption. 
It  needs  little  elucidation,  so  clearly  is  the  story  told, 
and  so  natural  are  the  incidents;  but  perhaps  we  shall 
best  gather  its  instruction  if  we  look  at  the  three  sets  of 
actors  separately,  and  note  the  hostile  authorities,  the 
patient  prophet  and  prisoner,  and  the  feeble  king.  The 
play  of  these  strongly  contrasted  characters  is  full  of 
vividness  and  instruction. 

I.  We  have  that  rough  'captain  of  the  ward,'  who 
laid  hands  on  the  prophet  at  the  gate  on  the  north  side 
of  the  city,  leading  to  the  road  to  the  territory  of  Benja- 
min. No  doubt  there  was  a  considerable  exodus  from 
Jerusalem  when  the  Assyrian  lines  were  deserted,  and 
common  prudence  would  have  facilitated  it,  as  reducing 
the  number  of  mouths  to  be  fed,  in  case  the  siege  were 
renewed ;  but  malice  is  not  prudent,  and,  instead  of  let- 
ting the  hated  Jeremiah  slip  quietly  away  home  to  Ana- 
thoth,  and  so  getting  rid  of  his  prophecies  and  him,  Iri- 
jah  ('  the  Lord  is  a  beholder  ')  arrested  him  on  a  charge 
of  meditating  desertion  to  the  enemy.  It  was  a  colour- 
able accusation,  for  Jeremiah's  constant  exhortation  had 
been  to  '  go  out  to  the  Chaldeans, '  and  so  secure  life  and 
mild  treatment.  But  it  was  clearly  false,  for  the  Chal- 
deans were  for  the  moment  gone,  and  the  time  was  the 
very  worst  that  could  have  been  chosen  for  a  contem- 
plated flight  to  their  camp. 

The  real  reason  for  the  prophet's  wish  to  leave  the 
city  was  only  too  simple.  It  was  to  see  if  he  could  get 
'  a  portion ' — some  of  his  property,  or  perhaps  rather 
some  little  store  of  food — to  take  back  to  the  famine- 
scourged  city,  which,  he  knew,  would  soon  be  again  at 


vs.  11-21]       THE  WORLD'S  WAGES  363 

starvation-point.  There  appears  to  have  been  a  little 
company  of  fellow-villagers  with  him,  for  '  in  the  midst 
of  the  people  '  (v.  12)  is  to  be  construed  with  '  to  go  into 
the  land  of  Benjamin.'  The  others  seem  to  have  been 
let  pass,  and  only  Jeremiah  detained,  which  makes  the 
charge  more  evidently  a  trumped-up  excuse  for  laying 
hands  on  him.  Jeremiah  calls  it  in  plain  words  what  it 
was — '  a  lie  ' — and  protests  his  innocence  of  any  such  de- 
sign. But  the  officious  Irijah  knew  too  well  how  much  of 
a  feather  in  his  cap  his  getting  hold  of  the  prophet  would 
be,  to  heed  his  denials,  and  dragged  him  off  to  the  princes. 

Sixteen  years  ago  '  the  princes  '  round  Jehoiakim  had 
been  the  prophet's  friends;  but  either  a  new  generation 
had  come  with  a  new  king,  or  else  the  tempers  of  the 
men  had  changed  with  the  growing  misery.  Their  be- 
haviour was  more  lawless  than  the  soldiers'  had  been. 
They  did  not  even  pretend  to  examine  the  prisoner,  but 
blazed  up  at  once  in  anger.  They  had  him  in  their 
power  now,  and  did  their  worst,  lawlessly  scourging  him 
first,  and  then  thrusting  him  into  '  the  house  of  the  pit ' 
— some  dark,  underground  hole,  below  the  house  of  an 
official,  where  there  were  a  number  of  '  cells  ' — filthy  and 
stifling,  no  doubt;  and  there  they  left  him.     What  for? 

The  charge  of  intended  desertion  was  a  mere  excuse 
for  wreaking  their  malice  on  him.  They  hated  Jeremiah 
because  he  had  steadily  opposed  the  popular  determina- 
tion to  fight,  and  had  foretold  disaster.  Add  to  this  that 
he  had  held  up  a  high  standard  of  religion  and  morality 
to  a  corrupt  and  idolatrous  people,  and  his  '  unpopular- 
ity '  is  sufficiently  explained. 

Would  that  the  same  causes  did  not  produce  the  same 
effects  now!  Individuals  still  think  an  honest  rebuke  of 
their  faults  an  insult,  and  a  plain  statement  of  their 


364         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxvii. 

danger  a  sign  of  ill-feeling.  Try  to  warn  a  drunkard  or 
a  profligate  by  telling  him  of  the  disease  and  misery 
which  will  dog  his  sins,  or  by  setting  plainly  before  him 
God's  law  of  purity  and  sobriety,  and  you  will  find  that 
the  prophet's  function  still  brings  with  it,  in  many 
cases,  the  prophet's  doom.  But  still  more  truly  is  this 
the  case  with  masses,  whether  nations  or  cities.  A  spu- 
rious patriotism  resents  as  unpatriotic  the  far  truer  love 
of  country  which  sets  a  trumpet  to  its  mouth  to  tell 
the  people  their  sins.  In  all  democratic  communities, 
whether  republican  or  regal  in  their  form  of  govern- 
ment, a  crying  evil  is  flattery  of  the  masses,  exalting 
their  virtues  and  foretelling  their  prosperity,  while  hid- 
ing their  faults  and  slurring  over  the  requirements  of 
morality  and  religion,  which  are  the  foundations  of  pros- 
perity. What  did  England  do  with  her  prophets? 
What  did  America  do  with  hers?  What  wages  do  they 
get  to-day?  The  men  who  dare  to  tell  their  country- 
men their  faults,  and  to  preach  temperance,  peace,  civic 
purity,  personal  morality,  are  laid  hold  of  by  the  Irijahs 
who  preside  over  the  newspapers,  and  are  pilloried  as 
deserters  and  half  traitors  at  heart. 

II.  We  see  the  patient,  unmoved  prophet.  One  flash 
of  honest  indignation  repels  the  charge  of  deserting,  and 
then  he  is  silent.  'As  a  sheep  before  her  shearers  is 
dumb,  so  he  opened  not  his  mouth.'  It  is  useless  to 
plead  before  lawless  violence.  A  silent  martyr  elo- 
quently condemns  an  unjust  judge.  So,  without  oppo- 
sition or  apparent  remonstrance,  Jeremiah  is  cast  into 
the  foul  den  where  he  lies  for  '  many  days, '  patiently 
bearing  his  fate,  and  speaking  his  complaint  to  God  only. 
How  long  his  imprisonment  lasted  does  not  appear ;  but 
the  context  implies  that  during  it  the  siege  was  resumed, 


vs.  11-21]      THE  WORLD'S  WAGES  365 

and  that  there  was  difficulty  in  procuring  bread.  Then 
the  king  sent  for  him  secretly. 

Zedekiah's  temper  at  the  time  will  be  considered  pres- 
ently. Here  we  have  to  do  with  Jeremiah's  answer  to 
his  question.  In  it  we  may  note,  as  equally  prominent 
and  beautifully  blended,  respect,  submission,  conscious- 
ness of  peril  and  impending  death,  and  imshaken  bold- 
ness. He  knew  that  his  life  was  at  the  disposal  of  the 
capricious,  feeble  Zedekiah.  He  bows  before  him  as  his 
subject,  and  brings  his  '  supplication  ' ;  but  not  one  jot  of 
his  message  will  he  abate,  nor  smooth  down  its  terrible- 
ness  an  atom.  He  repeats  as  unfalteringly  as  ever  the 
assurance  that  the  king  of  Babylon  will  take  the  city. 
He  asserts  his  own  innocence  as  regards  king  and  cour- 
tiers and  people ;  and  he  asks  the  scornful  question  what 
has  become  of  all  the  smooth-tongued  prophets  of  pros- 
perity, as  if  he  were  bidding  the  king  look  over  the  city 
wall  and  see  the  tokens  of  their  lies  and  of  Jeremiah's 
truth  in  the  investing  lines  of  the  all  but  victorious  enemy. 

Such  a  combination  of  perfect  meekness  and  perfect 
courage,  unstained  loyalty  to  his  king,  and  supreme  obe- 
dience to  his  God,  was  only  possible  to  a  man  who  lived 
in  very  close  communion  with  Jehovah,  and  had  learned 
thereby  to  fear  none  less,  because  he  feared  Him  so  well, 
and  to  reverence  all  else  whom  He  had  set  in  places  of 
reverence.  True  courage,  of  the  pattern  which  befits 
God's  servants,  is  ever  gentle.  Bluster  is  the  sign  of 
weakness.  A  Christian  hero — and  no  man  will  be  a 
Christian  as  he  ought  to  be,  who  has  not  something  of 
the  hero  in  him — should  win  by  meekness.  Does  not  the 
King  of  all  such  ride  prosperously  '  because  of  truth  and 
meekness, '  and  must  not  the  armies  which  follow  Him 
do  the  same?    Faithful  witnessing  to  men  of  their  sins 


366         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxvii. 

need  not  be  rude,  harsh,  or  self -asserting.  But  we  must 
live  much  in  fellowship  with  the  Lord  of  all  the  meek 
and  the  pattern  of  all  patient  sufferers  and  faithful  wit- 
nesses, if  we  are  ever  to  be  like  Him,  or  even  like  His 
pale  shadow  as  seen  in  this  meek  prophet.  The  foun- 
tains of  strength  and  of  patience  spring  side  by  side  at 
the  foot  of  the  cross. 

III.  We  have  the  weak  Zedekiah,  with  his  pitiable 
vacillation.  He  had  been  Nebuchadnezzar's  nominee, 
and  had  served  him  for  some  years,  and  then  rebelled. 
His  whole  career  indicates  a  feeble  nature,  taking  the 
impression  of  anything  which  was  strongly  laid  on  it. 
He  was  a  king  of  putty,  when  the  times  demanded  one 
of  iron.  He  was  cowed  by  the  '  princes. '  Sometimes 
he  was  afraid  to  disobey  Jeremiah,  and  then  afraid  to  let 
his  masters  know  that  he  was  so.  Thus  he  sends  for 
the  prophet  stealthily,  and  his  first  question  opens  a 
depth  of  conflict  in  his  soul.  He  did  believe  that  the 
prophet  spoke  the  word  of  Jehovah,  and  yet  he  could 
not  muster  up  courage  to  follow  his  convictions  and  go 
against  the  princes  and  the  mob.  He  wanted  another 
'  word '  from  Jehovah,  by  which  he  meant  a  word  of 
another  sort  than  the  former.  He  could  not  bring  his 
mind  to  obey  the  word  which  he  had,  and  so  he  weakly 
hoped  that  perhaps  God's  word  might  be  changed  into 
one  that  he  would  be  willing  to  obey.  Many  men  are, 
like  him,  asking,  '  Is  there  any  word  from  the  Lord? ' 
and  meaning,  '  Is  there  any  change  in  the  condition  of 
receiving  His  favour? ' 

He  had  interest  enough  in  the  prophet  to  interfere  for 
his  comfort,  and  to  have  him  put  into  better  quarters  in 
the  palace  and  provided  with  a  '  circle '  (a  round  loaf) 
of  bread  out  of  Baker  Street,  as  long  as  there  was  any 


vs.  11-21]  THE  LAST  AGONY  367 

in  the  city — not  a  very  long  time.  But  why  did  he  do 
so  much,  and  not  do  more?  He  knew  that  Jeremiah 
was  innocent,  and  that  his  word  was  God's;  and  what 
he  should  have  done  was  to  have  shaken  off  his  master- 
ful '  servants, '  followed  his  conscience,  and  obeyed  God. 
Why  did  he  not?  Because  he  was  a  coward,  infirm  of 
purpose,  and  therefore  '  unstable  as  water. ' 

He  is  another  of  the  tragic  examples,  with  which  all 
life  as  well  as  scripture  is  studded,  of  how  much  evil  is 
possible  to  a  weak  character.  In  this  world,  where  there 
are  so  many  temptations  to  be  bad,  no  man  will  be  good 
who  cannot  strongly  say  '  No. '  The  virtue  of  strength 
of  will  may  be  but  like  the  rough  fence  round  young 
trees  to  keep  cattle  from  browsing  on  them  and  east 
winds  from  blighting  them.  But  the  fence  is  needed,  if 
the  trees  are  to  grow.  '  To  be  weak  is  to  be  miserable, ' 
and  sinful  too,  generally.  '  Whom  resist '  must  be  the 
motto  for  all  noble,  God-like,  and  God-pleasing  life. 

THE  LAST  AGONY 

'In  the  ninth  year  of  Zedekiah  king  of  Judah,  in  the  tenth  month,  came 
Nebuchadnezzar  king  of  Babylon  and  all  his  army  against  Jerusalem,  and 
they  besieged  it.  2.  And  in  the  eleventh  year  of  Zedekiah,  in  the  fourth 
month,  the  ninth  day  of  the  month,  the  city  was  broken  up.  3.  And  all 
the  princes  of  the  king  of  Babylon  came  in,  and  sat  in  the  middle  gate, 
even  Nergal-sharezer,  Samgar-nebo,  Sarse-chim,  Rab-saris,  Nergal-sha- 
rezer,  Rab-mag,  with  all  the  residue  of  the  princes  of  the  king  of  Babylon. 
4.  And  it  came  to  pass,  that  when  Zedekiah  the  king  of  Judah  saw  them, 
and  all  the  men  of  war,  then  they  fled,  and  went  forth  out  of  the  city  by 
night,  by  the  way  of  the  king's  garden,  by  the  gate  betwixt  the  two  walls: 
and  he  went  out  the  way  of  the  plain.  5.  But  the  Chaldeans'  army  pur- 
sued after  them,  and  overtook  Zedekiah  in  the  plains  of  Jericho;  and 
when  they  had  taken  him,  they  brought  him  up  to  Nebuchadnezzar  king 
of  Babylon  to  Riblah  in  the  land  of  Hamath,  where  he  gave  judgment 
upon  him.  6.  Then  the  king  of  Babylon  slew  the  sons  of  Zedekiah  in  Rib- 
lah before  his  eyes:  also  the  king  of  Babylon  slew  all  the  nobles  of  Judah. 
7.  Moreover  he  put  out  Zedekiah's  eyes,  and  bound  him  with  chains,  to 
carry  him  to  Babylon.  8.  And  the  Chaldeans  burned  the  king's  house, 
and  the  houses  of  the  people,  with  fire,  and  brake  down  the  walls  of  Jeru- 
salem. 9.  Then  Nebuzar-adan  the  captain  of  the  guard  carried  away  cap- 
tive into  Babylon  the  remnant  of  the  people  that  remained  in  the  city, 
and  those  that  fell  away,  that  fell  to  him,  with  the  rest  of  the  people  that 


368         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxix. 

remained.  10.  But  Nebuzar-adan  the  captain  of  the  guard  left  of  the 
poor  of  the  people,  which  had  nothing,  in  the  land  of  Judah,  and  gave 
them  vineyards  and  fields  at  the  same  time.' — Jer.  xxxix.  1-10. 

Two  characteristics  of  this  account  of  the  fall  of  Jerusa- 
lem are  striking, — its  minute  particularity,  giving  step 
by  step  the  details  of  the  tragedy,  and  its  entire  suppres- 
sion of  emotion.  The  passionless  record  tells  the  tale 
without  a  tear  or  a  sob.  For  these  we  must  go  to  the 
Book  of  Lamentations.  This  is  the  history  of  God's 
judgment,  and  here  emotion  would  be  misplaced.  But 
there  is  a  world  of  repressed  feeling  in  the  long-drawn 
narrative,  as  well  as  in  the  fact  that  three  versions  of 
the  story  are  given  here  (chap,  lii.,  2  Kings  xxv.).  Sor- 
row curbed  by  submission,  and  steadily  gazing  on  God's 
judicial  act,  is  the  temper  of  the  narrative.  It  should  be 
the  temper  of  all  sufferers.  '  I  was  dumb,  I  opened  not  my 
mouth ;  because  thou  didst  it. '  But  we  may  note  the  three 
stages  in  the  final  agony  which  this  section  distinguishes. 
I.  There  is  the  entrance  of  the  enemy.  Jerusalem  fell 
not  by  assault,  but  by  famine.  The  siege  lasted  eigh- 
teen months,  and  ended  when  '  all  the  bread  in  the  city 
was  spent. '  The  pitiful  pictures  in  Lamentations  fill  in 
the  details  of  misery,  telling  how  high-born  women 
picked  garbage  from  dung-heaps,  and  mothers  made  a 
ghastly  meal  of  their  infants,  while  the  nobles  were 
wasted  to  skeletons,  and  the  little  children  piteously 
cried  for  bread.  At  length  a  breach  was  made  in  the 
northern  wall  (as  Josephus  tells  us,  '  at  midnight'),  and 
through  it,  on  the  ninth  day  of  the  fourth  month  (cor- 
responding to  July),  swarmed  the  conquerors,  unresisted. 
The  commanders  of  the  Babylonians  planted  themselves 
at  '  the  middle  gate, '  probably  a  gate  in  the  wall  between 
the  upper  and  lower  city,  so  securing  for  them  the  con- 
trol of  both. 


vs.  1-10]  THE  LAST  AGONY  369 

How  many  of  these  fierce  soldiers  are  named  in  verse 
3?  At  first  sight  there  seem  to  be  six,  but  that  number 
must  be  reduced  by  at  least  two,  for  Eab-saris  and  Eab- 
mag  are  official  titles,  and  designate  the  offices  (chief 
eunuch  and  chief  magician)  of  the  two  persons  whose 
names  they  respectively  follow.  Possibly  Samgar-Nebo 
is  also  to  be  deducted,  for  it  has  been  suggested  that,  as 
that  name  stands,  it  is  anomalous,  and  it  has  been  pro- 
posed to  render  its  first  element,  Samgar,  as  meaning 
cup-bearer,  and  being  the  official  title  attached  to  the 
name  preceding  it ;  while  its  second  part,  Nebo,  is  re- 
garded as  the  first  element  in  a  new  name  obtained  by 
reading  shashban  instead  of  Sarsechim,  and  attaching 
that  reading  to  Nebo.  This  change  would  bring  verse  3 
into  accord  with  verse  13,  for  in  both  places  we  should 
then  have  Nebo-shashban  designated  as  chief  of  the 
eunuchs.  However  the  number  of  the  commanders  is 
settled,  and  whatever  their  names,  the  point  which  the 
historian  emphasises  is  their  presence  there.  Had  it 
come  to  this,  that  men  whose  very  names  were  invoca- 
tions of  false  gods  ('  Nergal  protect  the  king,' '  Nebo  de- 
livers me  '  if  we  read  '  Nebo-shashban, '  or  '  Be  gracious, 
Nebo, '  if  Samgar-nebo)  should  sit  close  by  the  temple, 
and  have  their  talons  fixed  in  the  Holy  City? 

These  intruders  were  all  unconscious  of  the  meaning 
of  their  victory,  and  the  tragedy  of  their  presence  there. 
They  thought  that  they  were  Nebuchadnezzar's  ser- 
vants, and  had  captured  for  him,  at  last,  an  obstinate 
little  city,  which  had  given  more  trouble  than  it  was 
worth.  Its  conquest  was  but  a  drop  in  the  bucket  of  his 
victories.  How  little  they  knew  that  they  were  serving 
that  Jehovah  whom  they  thought  that  Nebo  had  con- 
quered in  their  persons!     How  little  they  knew  that  they 

VOL.  II.  2  A 


370         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxix. 

were  the  iustruments  of  the  most  solemn  act  of  judg- 
ment in  the  world's  history  till  then! 

The  causes  which  led  to  the  fall  of  Jerusalem  could  be 
reasonably  set  forth  as  purely  political  without  a  single 
reference  to  Israel's  sins  or  God's  judgment;  but  none 
the  less  was  its  capture  the  divine  punishment  of  its  de- 
parture from  Him,  and  none  the  less  were  Nergal-share- 
zer  and  his  fellows  God's  tools,  the  axes  with  which  He 
hewed  down  the  barren  tree.  So  does  He  work  still,  in 
national  and  individual  history.  You  may,  in  a  fash- 
ion, account  for  both  without  bringing  Him  in  at  all; 
but  your  philosophy  of  either  will  be  partial,  unless  you 
recognise  that  '  the  history  of  the  world  is  the  judgment 
of  the  world.'  It  was  the  same  hand  which  set  these 
harsh  conquerors  at  the  middle  gate  of  Jerusalem  that 
sent  the  German  armies  to  encamp  in  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde  in  Paris ;  and  in  neither  case  does  the  recogni- 
tion of  God  in  the  crash  of  a  falling  throne  absolve  the 
victors  from  the  responsibility  of  their  deeds. 

II.  We  have  the  flight  and  fate  of  Zedekiah  and  his 
evil  advisers  (vs.  4-Y).  His  weakness  of  character  shows 
itself  to  the  end.  Why  was  there  no  resistance?  It 
would  have  better  beseemed  him  to  have  died  on  his  pal- 
ace threshold  than  to  have  skulked  away  in  the  dark 
between  the  shelter  of  the  '  two  walls. '  But  he  was  a 
poor  weakling,  and  the  curse  of  God  sat  heavy  on  his 
soul,  though  he  had  tried  to  put  it  away.  Conscience 
made  a  coward  of  him ;  for  he,  at  all  events,  knew  who 
had  set  the  strangers  by  the  middle  gate.  Men  who 
harden  heart  and  conscience  against  threatened  judg- 
ments are  very  apt  to  collapse,  when  the  threats  are  ful- 
filled.    The  frost  breaks  up  with  a  rapid  thaw. 

Ezekiel  (Ezek.  xii.  12)  prophesied  the  very  details  of 


vs.  1-10]  THE  LAST  AGONY  371 

the  flight.  It  was  to  be  '  in  the  dark, '  the  king  himself 
was  to  '  carry  '  some  of  his  valuables,  they  were  to  '  dig- 
through  '  the  earthen  ramparts ;  and  all  appears  to  have 
been  literally  fulfilled.  The  flight  was  taken  in  the  op- 
posite direction  from  the  entrance  of  the  besiegers ;  two 
walls,  which  probably  ran  down  the  valley  between  Zion 
and  the  temple  mount,  afforded  cover  to  the  fugitives  as 
far  as  to  the  south  city  wall,  and  there  some  postern  let 
them  out  to  the  king's  garden.  That  is  a  tragic  touch. 
It  was  no  time  then  to  gather  flowers.  The  forlorn  and 
frightened  company  seems  to  have  scattered  when  once 
outside  the  city ;  for  there  is  a  marked  contrast  in  verse 
4  between  '  they  fled  '  and  '  he  went. '  In  the  descrip- 
tion of  his  flight  Zedekiah  is  still  called,  as  in  verses  1 
and  2,  the  king ;  but  after  his  capture  he  is  only  '  Zede- 
kiah.' 

Down  the  rocky  valley  of  the  Kedron  he  hurried,  and 
had  a  long  enough  start  of  his  pursuers  to  get  to  Jeri- 
cho. Another  hour  would  have  seen  him  safe  across 
Jordan,  but  the  prospect  of  escape  was  only  dangled  be- 
fore his  eyes  to  make  capture  more  bitter.  Probably  he 
was  too  much  absorbed  with  his  misery  and  fear  to  feel 
any  additional  humiliation  from  the  mighty  memories 
of  the  scene  of  his  capture;  but  how  solemnly  fitting  it 
was  that  the  place  which  had  seen  Israel's  first  triumph, 
when  '  by  faith  the  walls  of  Jericho  fell  down, '  should 
witness  the  lowest  shame  of  the  king  who  had  cast  away 
his  kingdom  by  unbelief!  The  conquering  dead  might 
have  gathered  in  shadowy  shapes  to  reproach  the  weak- 
ling and  sluggard  who  had  sinned  away  the  heritage 
which  they  had  won.  The  scene  of  the  capture  under- 
scores the  lesson  of  the  capture  itself ;  namely,  the  victo- 
rious power  of  faith,  and  the  defeat  and  shame  which, 


372         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxix. 

in  the  long-run,  are  the  fruits  of  an  '  evil  heart  of  unbe- 
lief, departing  from  the  living  God. ' 

That  would  be  a  sad  march  through  all  the  length  of 
the  fair  land  that  had  slipped  from  his  slack  fingers,  up 
to  far-off  Eiblah,  in  the  great  valley  between  the  Lebanon 
and  the  anti-Lebanon.  Observe  how,  in  verses  5  and  6, 
the  king  of  Babylon  has  his  royal  title,  and  Zedekiah  has 
not.  The  crown  has  fallen  from  his  head,  and  there  is 
no  more  a  king  in  Judah.  He  who  had  been  king  now 
stands  chained  before  the  cruel  conqueror.  Well  might 
the  victor  think  that  Nebo  had  overcome  Jehovah,  but 
better  did  the  vanquished  know  that  Jehovah  had  kept 
his  word. 

Cruelty  and  expediency  dictated  the  savage  massacre 
and  mutilation  which  followed.  The  death  of  Zedekiah 's 
sons,  and  of  the  nobles  who  had  scoffed  at  Jeremiah's 
warnings,  and  the  blinding  of  Zedekiah,  were  all  meas- 
ures of  precaution  as  well  as  of  savagery.  They  dimin- 
ished the  danger  of  revolt;  and  a  blind,  childless  pris- 
oner, without  counsellors  or  friends,  was  harmless.  But 
to  make  the  sight  of  his  slaughtered  sons  the  poor 
wretch's  last  sight,  was  a  refinement  of  gratuitous  de- 
light in  torturing.  Thus  singularly  was  Ezekiel's  enig- 
ma solved  and  harmonised  with  its  apparent  contradic- 
tions in  Jeremiah's  prophecies:  '  Yet  shall  he  not  see  it, 
though  he  shall  die  there  '  (Ezek.  xii.  13). 

Zedekiah  is  one  more  instance  of  the  evil  which  may 
come  from  a  weak  character,  and  of  the  evil  which  may 
fall  on  it.  He  had  good  impulses,  but  he  could  not  hold 
his  own  against  the  bad  men  round  him,  and  so  he  stum- 
bled on,  not  without  misgivings,  which  only  needed  to 
be  attended  to  with  resolute  determination,  in  order  to 
have  reversed  his  conduct  and  fate.     Feeble  hands  can 


vs.  1-10]  THE  LAST  AGONY  373 

pull  down  venerable  structures  built  in  happier  times. 
It  takes  a  David  and  a  Solomon  to  rear  a  temple,  but  a 
Zedekiah  can  overthrow  it. 

III.  We  have  the  completion  of  the  conquest  (vs.  8- 
10).  The  first  care  of  the  victors  was,  of  course,  to  se- 
cure themselves,  and  fires  and  crowbars  were  the  readiest 
way  to  that  end.  But  the  wail  in  the  last  chapter  of 
Lamentations  hints  at  the  usual  atrocities  of  the  sack  of 
a  city,  when  brutal  lust  and  as  brutal  ferocity  are  let 
loose.  Chapter  lii.  shows  that  the  final  step  in  our  nar- 
rative was  separated  from  the  capture  of  the  city  by  a 
month,  which  was,  no  doubt,  a  month  of  nameless 
agonies,  horrors,  and  shame.  Then  the  last  drop  was 
added  to  the  bitter  cup,  in  the  deportation  of  the  bulk  of 
the  inhabitants,  according  to  the  politic  custom  of  these 
old  military  monarchies.  What  rending  of  ties,  what 
weariness  and  years  of  long-drawn-out  yearning,  that 
meant,  can  easily  be  imagined.  The  residue  left  behind 
to  keep  the  country  from  relapsing  into  waste  land  was 
too  weak  to  be  dangerous,  and  too  cowed  to  dare  any- 
thing. One  knows  not  who  had  the  sadder  lot,  the 
exiles,  or  the  handful  of  peasants  left  to  till  the  fields 
that  had  once  been  their  own,  and  to  lament  their  breth- 
ren gone  captives  to  the  far-off  land. 

Surely  the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  though  all  the  agony  is 
calmed  ages  ago,  still  remains  as  a  solemn  beacon-warn- 
ing that  the  wages  of  sin  is  death,  both  for  nations  and 
individuals;  that  the  threatenings  of  God's  Word  are 
not  idle,  but  will  be  accomplished  to  the  utmost  tittle ; 
and  that  His  patience  stretches  from  generation  to  gen- 
eration, and  His  judgments  tarry  because  He  is  not  will- 
ing that  any  should  perish,  but  that  for  all  the  long-suf- 
fering there  comes  a  time  when  even  divine  love  sees 


374         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxix. 

that  it  is  needful  to  say  '  Now! '  and  the  bolt  falls.  The 
solemn  word  addressed  to  Israel  has  application  as  real 
to  all  Christian  churches  and  individual  souls :  '  You  only 
have  I  known  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth ;  there- 
fore I  will  punish  you  for  your  iniquities. ' 

EBEDMELECH   THE    ETHIOPIAN 

'  For  I  will  surely  deliver  thee,  and  thou  shalt  not  fall  by  the  sword,  but 
thy  life  shall  be  for  a  prey  unto  thee :  because  thou  hast  put  thy  trust  in 
Me,  saith  the  Lord.' — Jer.  xxxix.  18. 

Ebedmelech  is  a  singular  anticipation  of  that  other  Ethi- 
opian eunuch  whom  Philip  met  on  the  desert  road  to 
Gaza.  It  is  prophetic  that  on  the  eve  of  the  fall  of  the 
nation,  a  heathen  man  should  be  entering  into  union 
with  God.  It  is  a  picture  in  little  of  the  rejection  of 
Israel  and  the  ingathering  of  the  Gentiles. 

I.  The  identity  in  all  ages  of  the  bond  that  unites  men 
to  God. 

It  is  a  common  notion  that  faith  is  peculiar  to  the  New 
Testament.  But  the  Old  Testament  '  trust '  is  identical 
with  the  New  Testament  '  faith, '  and  it  is  a  great  pity 
that  the  variation  in  translation  has  obscured  that  iden- 
tity. The  fact  of  the  prominence  given  to  law  in  the 
Old  Testament  does  not  affect  this.  For  every  effort  to 
keep  the  law  must  have  led  to  consciousness  of  imperfec- 
tion, and  that  consciousness  must  have  driven  to  the 
exercise  of  penitent  trust.  The  difference  of  degrees  of 
revelation  does  not  affect  it,  for  faith  is  the  same,  how- 
ever various  the  contents  of  the  creed. 

Note  further  the  personal  object  of  Faith — '  in  me.  '  The 
object  of  Faith  is  not  a  proposition  but  a  Person.  That 
Person  is  the  same  in  the  Old  Testament  and  in  the  New. 
The  Jehovah  of  the  one  is  the  God  in  Christ  of  the  other. 


V.  18]  EBEDMELECH  375 

Consequently  faith  must  be  more  than  intellectual  as- 
sent, it  must  be  voluntary  and  emotional,  the  act  of  the 
whole  man,  '  the  synthesis  of  the  reason  and  the  will. ' 

II.  The  contrast  of  a  formal  and  real  union  with  God. 
The  king,  prophets,  priests,  the  whole  nation,  had  an 

outward  connection  with  Him,  but  it  meant  nothing. 
And  this  foreigner,  a  slave,  perhaps  not  even  a  proselyte, 
a  eunuch,  had  what  the  children  of  the  covenant  had 
not,  a  true  union  with  God  through  Faith. 

Judaism  was  not  an  exclusive  system,  but  was  intended 
to  bring  in  the  nations  to  share  in  its  blessings.  Out- 
ward descent  gave  outward  place  within  the  covenant, 
but  the  distinction  of  real  and  formal  place  there  was 
established  from  the  beginning.  What  else  than  this  is 
the  meaning  of  all  the  threatenings  of  Deuteronomy? 
What  else  did  Isaiah  mean  when  he  called  the  rulers  in 
Jerusalem  '  Rulers  of  Sodom  '  ?  Here  the  fates  of  Ebed- 
melech  and  of  Zedekiah  illustrate  both  sides  of  the  truth. 
The  danger  of  trusting  in  outward  possession  and  of 
thinking  that  God's  mercy  is  our  property  besets  all 
Churches.  Organisations  of  Christianity  are  necessary, 
but  it  is  impossible  to  tell  the  harm  that  formal  connec- 
tion with  them  has  done.  There  is  only  one  bond  that 
unites  men  to  God — personal  trust  in  Him  as  '  in  Christ 
reconciling  the  world  to  Himself. ' 

III.  The  possibility  of  exercising  uniting  faith  even  in 
most  unfavourable  circumstances. 

This  Ebedmelech  had  everything  against  him.  The 
contemptuous  exclusion  of  him  from  any  share  in  the 
covenant  might  well  have  discouraged  him.  The  poorest 
Jew  treated  him  as  a  heathen  dog,  who  had  no  right 
even  to  crumbs  from  the  table  spread  for  the  children 
only.     He  was  plunged  into  a  sea  of  godlessness,  and 


376  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xxxix. 

saw  examples  enough  of  utter  carelessness  as  to  Jehovah 
in  His  professed  servants  to  drive  him  away  from  a  re- 
ligion which  had  so  little  hold  on  its  professed  adherents. 
The  times  were  gloomy,  and  the  Jehovah  whom  Judah 
professed  to  worship  seemed  to  have  small  power  to  help 
His  worshippers.  It  would  have  been  no  wonder  if  the 
conduct  of  the  people  of  Jerusalem  had  caused  the  name 
of  Jehovah  to  be  blasphemed  by  this  Gentile,  nor  if  he 
had  revolted  from  a  religion  that  was  alleged  to  be  the 
special  property  of  one  race,  and  that  such  a  race!  But 
he  listened  to  the  cry  of  his  own  heart,  and  to  the  words 
of  God's  prophet,  and  his  faith  pierced  through  all  obsta- 
cles— like  the  roots  of  some  tree  feeling  for  the  water. 
He  found  the  vitalising  fountain  that  he  sought,  and  His 
name  stands  to  all  ages  as  a  witness  that  no  seeking 
heart,  that  longs  for  God,  is  ever  balked  in  its  search, 
and  that  a  faith,  very  imperfect  as  to  its  knowledge,  may 
be  so  strong  as  to  its  substance  that  it  unites  him  who 
exercises  it  with  God,  while  the  possessors  of  ecclesiasti- 
cal privileges  and  of  untarnished  and  full-orbed  orthodox 
knowledge  have  no  fellowship  with  Him. 

IV.  The  safety  given  by  such  uniting  faith. 

To  Ebedmelech,  escape  from  death  by  the  besiegers' 
swords  was  promised.  To  us  a  more  blessed  safety  and 
exemption  from  a  worse  destruction  are  assured.  '  The 
life  which  is  life  indeed  '  may  be  ours,  and  shall  assuredly 
be  ours,  if  our  trust  knits  us  to  Him  who  is  the  Life,  and 
who  has  said  '  He  that  liveth  and  believeth  in  Me  shall 
never  die. ' 


GOD'S   PATIENT   PLEADINGS 

'  I  sent  unto  you  all  my  servants  the  prophets,  rising  early  and  sending 
them,  saying,  Oh,  do  not  this  abominable  thing  that  I  hate.' — Jer.  xliv.  4. 

The  long  death-agony  of  the  Jewish  kingdom  has  come 
to  an  end.  The  frivolous  levity,  which  fed  itself  on  illu- 
sions and  would  not  be  sobered  by  facts,  has  been  finally 
crushed  out  of  the  wretched  people.  The  dreary  succes- 
sion of  incompetent  kings — now  a  puppet  set  up  by 
Egypt,  now  another  puppet  set  up  by  Babylon,  has  ended 
with  the  weak  Zedekiah.  The  throne  of  David  is  empty, 
and  the  long  line  of  kings,  which  numbered  many  a 
strong,  wise,  holy  man,  has  dwindled  into  a  couple  of 
captives,  one  of  them  blind  and  both  of  them  paupers  on 
an  idolatrous  monarch's  bounty.  The  country  is  deso- 
late, the  bulk  of  the  people  exiles,  and  the  poor  handful, 
who  had  been  left  by  the  conqueror,  flitting  like  ghosts, 
or  clinging,  like  domestic  animals,  to  their  burnt  homes 
and  wasted  plains,  have  been  quarrelling  and  fighting 
among  themselves,  murdering  the  Jewish  ruler  whom 
Babylon  had  left  them,  and  then  in  abject  terror  have  fled 
en  masse  across  the  border  into  Egpyt,  where  they  are  liv- 
ing wretched  lives.  What  a  history  that  people  had 
gone  through  since  they  had  lived  on  the  same  soil  be- 
fore! From  Moses  to  Zedekiah,  what  a  story!  From 
Goshen  till  now  it  had  been  one  long  tragedy  which 
seems  to  have  at  last  reached  its  fifth  act.  Nine  hun- 
dred years  have  passed,  and  this  is  the  issue  of  them  all! 
The  circumstances  might  well  stir  the  heart  of  the 
prophet,  whose  doleful  task  it  had  been  to  foretell  the 
coming  of  the  storm,  who  had  had  to  strip  off  Judah's 
delusions  and  to  proclaim  its  certain  fall,  and  who  in  do- 

377 


378  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xliv. 

ing  so  had  carried  his  life  in  his  hand  for  forty  years, 
and  had  never  met  with  recognition  or  belief. 

Jeremiah  had  been  carried  off  by  the  fugitives  to 
Egypt,  and  there  he  made  a  final  effort  to  win  them 
back  to  God.  He  passed  before  them  the  outline  of  the 
whole  history  of  the  nation,  treating  it  as  having  accom- 
plished one  stadium — and  what  does  he  find?  In  all 
these  days  since  Goshen  there  has  been  one  monotonous 
story  of  vain  divine  pleadings  and  human  indifference, 
God  beseeching  and  Israel  turning  away — and  now  at 
last  the  crash,  long  foretold,  never  credited,  which  had 
been  drawing  nearer  through  all  the  centuries,  has  come, 
and  Israel  is  scattered  among  the  people. 

Such  are  the  thoughts  and  emotions  that  speak  in  the 
exquisitely  tender  words  of  our  text.     It  suggests — 

I.  God's  antagonism  to  sin. 

II.  The  great  purpose  of  all  His  pleadings. 

III.  God's  tender  and  unwearied  efforts. 

IV.  The  obstinate  resistance  to  His  tender  pleadings. 

I.  God's  antagonism  to  sin. 

It  is  the  one  thing  in  the  universe  to  which  He  is  op- 
posed. Sin  is  essentially  antagonism  to  God.  People 
shrink  from  the  thought  of  God's  hatred  of  sin,  because 
of— 

An  under-estimate  of  its  gravity.  Contrast  the  hu- 
man views  of  its  enormity,  as  shown  by  men's  playing 
with  it,  calling  it  by  half-jocose  names  and  the  like, 
with  God's  thought  of  its  heinousness. 

A  false  dread  of  seeming  to  attribute  human  emotions 
to  God.  But  there  is  in  God  what  corresponds  to  our 
human  feelings,  something  analogous  to  the  attitude  of 
a  pure  human  mind  recoiling  from  evil. 


V.  4]        GOD'S  PATIENT  PLEADINGS        379 

The  divine  love  must  necessarily  be  pure,  and  the 
mightier  its  energy  of  forth-going,  the  mightier  its  en- 
ergy of  recoil.  God's  '  hate  '  is  Love  inverted  and  re- 
verted on  itself.  A  divine  love  which  had  in  it  no  ne- 
cessity of  hating  evil  would  be  profoundly  immoral,  and 
would  be  called  devilish  more  fitly  than  divine. 

XL  The  great  purpose  of  the  divine  pleadings. 

To  wean  from  sin  is  the  main  end  of  prophecy.  It  is 
the  main  end  of  all  revelation.  God  must  chiefly  desire 
to  make  His  creatures  like  Himself.  Sin  makes  a  spe- 
cial revelation  necessary.     Sin  determines  the  form  of  it. 

III.  God's  tender  and  unwearied  efforts. 

'  Rising  early  '  is  a  strong  metaphor  to  express  persist- 
ent effort.  The  more  obstinate  is  our  indifference,  the 
more  urgent  are  His  calls.  He  raises  His  voice  as  our 
deafness  grows.  Mark,  too,  the  tenderness  of  the  en- 
treaty in  this  text,  '  Oh,  do  not  this  abominable  thing 
that  I  hate! '  His  hatred  of  it  is  adduced  as  a  reason 
which  should  touch  any  heart  that  loves  Him.  He  be- 
seeches as  if  He,  too,  were  saying,  '  Though  I  might  be 
bold  to  enjoin  thee  '  that  which  is  fitting,  '  yet  for  love's 
sake  I  rather  beseech  thee. '  The  manifestation  of  His 
disapproval  and  the  appeal  to  our  love  by  the  disclosure 
of  His  own  are  the  most  powerful,  winning  and  com- 
pelling dehortations  from  sin.  Not  by  brandishing  the 
whip,  not  by  a  stern  law  written  on  tables  of  stone,  but 
by  unveiling  His  heart,  does  God  win  us  from  our  sins. 

IV.  The  obstinate  resistance  to  God's  tender  pleadings. 
The  tragedy  of  the  nation  is  summed  up  in  one  word, 

*  They  hearkened  not. ' 

That  power  of  neglecting  God's  voice  and  opposing 
God's  will  is  the  mystery  of  our  nature.  How  strange 
it  is  that  a  human  will  should  be  able  to  lift  itself  in  op- 


380         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xlvii. 

position  to  the  Sovereign  Will!  But  stranger  and  more 
mysterious  and  tragic  still  is  it  that  we  should  choose  to 
exercise  that  power  and  find  pleasure,  and  fancy  that  we 
shall  ever  find  advantage,  in  refusing  to  listen  to  His 
entreaties  and  choosing  to  flout  His  uttered  will. 

Such  opposition  was  Israel's  ruin.  It  will  be  ours  if 
we  persist  in  it.  '  If  God  spared  not  the  natural 
branches,  neither  will  He  spare  thee. ' 


THE  SWOED   OF  THE  LORD 

'O  thou  sword  of  the  Lord,  how  long  will  it  be  ere  thou  be  quiet?  put 
up  thyself  into  thy  scabbard,  rest,  and  be  still.  7.  How  can  it  be  quiet, 
seeing  the  Lord  hath  given  it  a  charge?' — Jer.  xlvii.  6,  7. 

The  prophet  is  here  in  the  full  tide  of  his  prophecies 
against  the  nations  round  about.  This  paragraph  is 
entirely  occupied  with  threatenings.  Bearing  the  cup 
of  woes,  he  turns  to  one  after  another  of  the  ancestral 
enemies  of  Israel,  Egypt  and  Philistia  on  the  south  and 
west,  Moab  on  the  south  and  east,  then  northwards  to 
Ammon,  south  to  Edom,  north  to  Damascus,  Kedar, 
Hagor,  Elam,  and  finally  to  the  great  foe — Babylon. 
In  the  hour  of  Israel's  lowest  fortunes  and  the  foe's 
proudest  exultation  these  predictions  are  poured  out. 
Jeremiah  stands  as  if  wielding  the  sword  of  which  our 
text  speaks,  and  whirls  and  points  the  flashing  terror  of 
its  sharpened  edge  against  the  ring  of  foes.  It  turns 
every  way,  like  the  weapon  of  the  angelic  guard  before 
the  lost  paradise,  and  wherever  it  turns  a  kingdom 
falls. 

In  the  midst  of  his  stern  denunciations  he  checks  him- 
self to  utter  this  plaintive  cry  of  pity  and  longing.  A 
tender  gleam  of  compassion  breaks  through  the  heart  of 


vs.  6,7]  THE  SWORD  OF  THE  LORD         381 

the  thunder-cloud.  It  is  very  beautiful  to  note  that  the 
point  at  which  the  irrepressible  welling  up  of  sweet 
waters  breaks  the  current  of  his  prophecy  is  the  predic- 
tion against  Israel's  bitterest,  because  nearest,  foe, 
'  these  uncircumcised  Philistines. '  He  beholds  the  sea 
of  wrath  drowning  the  great  Philistine  plain,  its  rich 
harvests  trampled  under  foot  by  '  stamping  of  hoofs  of 
his  strong  ones,'  and  that  desolation  wrings  from  his 
heart  the  words  of  our  text.  I  take  them  to  be  spoken 
by  the  prophet.  That,  of  course,  is  doubtful.  It  may 
be  that  they  are  meant  to  give  in  a  vivid  dramatic  form 
the  efifect  of  the  judgments  on  the  sufferers.  They  rec- 
ognise these  as  'the  sword  of  the  Lord.'  Their  only 
thought  is  an  impatient  longing  that  the  judgments 
would  cease, — no  confession  of  sin,  no  humbling  of  them 
selves,  but  only — '  remove  Thy  hand  from  us. ' 

And  the  answer  is  either  the  prophet's  or  the  divine 
voice ;  spoken  in  the  one  case  to  himself,  in  the  other  to 
the  Philistines;  but  in  either  setting  forth  the  impossi- 
bility that  the  sweeping  sword  should  rest,  since  it  is  the 
instrument  in  God's  hand,  executing  His  charge  and  ful- 
filling His  appointment. 

I.  The  shrinking  from  the  unsheathed  sword  of  the 
Lord. 

We  may  deal  with  the  words  as  representing  very  va- 
rious states  of  mind. 

They  may  express  the  impatience  of  sufferers.  Afflic- 
tions are  too  often  wasted.  Whatever  the  purpose  of 
chastisement,  the  true  lesson  of  it  is  so  seldom  learned, 
even  in  regard  to  the  lowest  wisdom  it  is  adapted  to 
teach.  In  an  epidemic,  how  few  people  learn  to  take 
precautions,  such  as  cleanliness  or  attention  to  diet!  In 
hard  times  commercially,  how  slow  most  are  to  learn 


382         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xlvii. 

the  warning  against  luxury,  over-trading,  haste  to  be 
rich!  And  in  regard  to  higher  lessons,  men  have  a  dim 
sense  sometimes  that  the  blow  comes  from  God,  but,  like 
Balaam,  go  on  their  way  in  spite  of  the  angel  with  the 
sword.  It  does  not  soften,  nor  restrain,  nor  drive  to 
God.  The  main  result  is,  impatient  longing  for  its 
removal. 

The  text  may  express  the  rooted  dislike  to  the 
thought  and  the  fact  of  punishment  as  an  element  in 
divine  government.  This  is  a  common  phase  of  feeling 
always,  and  especially  so  now.  There  is  a  present  ten- 
dency, good  in  many  aspects,  but  excessive,  to  soften 
away  the  thought  of  punishment;  or  to  suppose  that 
God's  punishments  must  have  the  same  purposes  as 
men's.  We  cannot  punish  by  way  of  retribution,  for  no 
balance  of  ours  is  fine  enough  to  weigh  motives  or  to  de- 
termine criminality.  Our  punishments  can  only  be  de- 
terrent or  reformatory,  but  this  is  by  reason  of  our 
weakness.     He  has  other  objects  in  view. 

Current  ideas  of  the  love  of  God  distort  it  by  pitting  it 
against  His  retributive  righteousness.  Current  ideas 
of  sin  diminish  its  gravity  by  tracing  it  to  heredity  or 
environment,  or  viewing  it  as  a  necessary  stage  in  prog- 
ress. The  sense  of  God's  judicial  action  is  paralysed 
and  all  but  dead  in  multitudes. 

All  these  things  taken  together  set  up  a  strong  current 
of  opinion  against  any  teaching  of  punitive  energy  in  God. 

The  text  may  express  the  pitying  reluctance  of  the 
prophet. 

Jeremiah  is  remarkable  for  the  weight  with  which 
'  the  burden  of  the  Lord  '  pressed  upon  him.  The  true 
prophet  feels  the  pang  of  the  woes  which  he  is  charged 
to  announce  more  than  his  hearers  do. 


vs.  6,7]  THE  SWORD  OF  THE  LORD         383 

Unfair  charges  are  made  against  gospel  preachers,  as 
if  they  delighted  in  the  thought  of  the  retribution  which 
they  have  to  proclaim. 

II.  The  solemn  necessity  for  the  unsheathing  of  the 
sword. 

The  judgments  must  go  on.  In  the  text  the  all-suffi- 
cient reason  given  is  that  God  has  willed  it  so.  But  we 
must  take  into  account  all  that  lies  in  that  name  of 
'  Lord '  before  we  understand  the  message,  which 
brought  patience  to  the  heart  of  the  prophet.  If  a  Jew- 
ish prophet  believed  anything,  he  believed  that  the  will 
of  the  Lord  was  absolutely  good.  Jeremiah's  reason 
for  the  flashing  sword  is  no  mere  beating  down  human 
instincts,  by  alleging  a  will  which  is  sovereign,  and 
there  an  end.  We  have  to  take  into  account  the  whole 
character  of  Him  who  has  willed  it,  and  then  we  can 
discern  it  to  be  inevitable  that  God  should  punish  evil. 

His  character  makes  it  inevitable.  God's  righteous- 
ness cannot  but  hate  sin  and  fight  against  it.  To  leave 
it  unpunished  stains  His  glory. 

God's  love  cannot  but  draw  and  wield  the  sword.  It 
is  unsheathed  in  the  interests  of  all  that  is  '  lovely  and 
of  good  report.'  If  God  is  God  at  all,  and  not  an 
almighty  devil.  He  must  hate  sin.  The  love  and  the 
righteousness,  which  in  deepest  analysis  are  one,  must 
needs  issue  in  punishment.  There  would  be  a  blight 
over  the  universe  if  they  did  not. 

The  very  order  of  the  universe  makes  it  inevitable. 
All  things,  as  coming  from  Him,  must  work  for  His 
lovers  and  against  His  enemies,  as  '  the  stars  in  their 
courses  fought  against  Sisera. ' 

The  constitution  of  men  makes  it  inevitable.  Sin 
brings  its  own  punishment,  in  gnawing  conscience,  de- 


384         THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  xlvii. 

filed  memories,  incapacity  for  good,  and  many  other 
penalties. 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  text  originally  referred 
to  retribution  on  nations  for  national  sins,  and  that  what 
Jeremiah  regarded  as  the  strokes  of  the  Lord  might  be 
otherwise  regarded  as  political  catastrophes.  Let  us  not 
overlook  that  application  of  the  principles  of  the  text. 
Scripture  regards  the  so-called  '  natural  consequences ' 
of  a  nation's  sins  as  God's  judgments  on  them.  The 
Christian  view  of  the  government  of  the  world  looks  on 
all  human  affairs  as  moved  by  God,  though  done  by 
men.  It  takes  full  account  of  the  responsibility  of  men 
the  doers,  but  above  all,  recognises  '  the  rod  and  Him 
who  hath  appointed  it. '  We  see  exemplified  over  and 
over  again  in  the  world's  history  the  tragic  truth  that 
the  accumulated  consequences  of  a  nation's  sins  fall  on 
the  heads  of  a  single  generation.  Slowly,  drop  by  drop, 
the  cup  is  filled.  Slowly,  moment  by  moment,  the  hand 
moves  round  the  dial,  and  then  come  the  crash  and 
boom  of  the  hammer  on  the  deep-toned  bell.  Good  men 
should  pray  not,  '  Put  up  thyself  into  thy  scabbard, ' 
but,  '  Gird  Thy  sword  on  Thy  thigh,  0  thou  most 
mighty  ...  on  behalf  of  truth  and  meekness  and 
righteousness. ' 

III.  The  sheathing  of  the  sword. 

The  passionate  appeal  in  the  text,  which  else  is  vain, 
has  in  large  measure  its  satisfaction  in  the  work  of 
Christ. 

God  does  not  delight  in  punishment.  He  has  pro- 
vided a  way.  Christ  bears  the  consequence  of  man's 
sin,  the  sense  of  alienation,  the  pains  and  sorrows,  the 
death.  He  does  not  bear  them  for  Himself.  His  bear- 
ing them  accomplishes  the  ends  at  which  punishment 


vs.  6,7]     THE  KINSMAN-REDEEMER         S85 

aims,  in  expressing  the  divine  hatred  of  sin  and  in  sub- 
duing the  heart.  Trusting  in  Him,  the  sword  does  not 
fall  on  us.  In  some  measure  indeed  it  still  does.  But 
it  is  no  longer  a  sword  to  smite,  but  a  lancet  to  inflict  a 
healing  wound.  And  the  worst  punishment  does  not 
fall  on  us.  God's  sword  was  sheathed  in  Christ's 
breast.  So  trust  in  Him,  then  shall  you  have  '  boldness 
in  the  day  of  judgment.' 


THE   KINSMAN-EEDEEMER 

'Their  Redeemer  is  strong;   the  Lord  of  Hosts  is  His  name:   He  shall 
thoroughly  plead  their  cause.' — Jer.  1.  34. 

Among  the  remarkable  provisions  of  the  Mosaic  law 
there  were  some  very  peculiar  ones  affecting  the  next-of- 
kin.  The  nearest  living  blood  relation  to  a  man  had 
certain  obligations  and  offices  to  discharge,  under  certain 
contingencies,  in  respect  of  which  he  received  a  special 
name ;  which  is  sometimes  translated  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment 'Redeemer,'  and  sometimes  'Avenger'  of  blood. 
What  the  etymological  signification  of  the  word  may 
be  is,  perhaps,  somewhat  doubtful.  It  is  taken  by  some 
authorities  to  come  from  a  word  meaning  '  to  set  free. ' 
But  a  consideration  of  the  offices  which  the  law  pre- 
scribed for  the  '  Goel '  is  of  more  value  for  understand- 
ing the  peculiar  force  of  the  metaphor  in  such  a  text  as 
this,  than  any  examination  of  the  original  meaning  of 
the  word.  Jehovah  is  represented  as  having  taken 
upon  Himself  the  functions  of  the  next-of-kin,  and 
is  the  Kinsman-Redeemer  of  His  people.  The  same 
thought  recurs  frequently  in  the  Old  Testament,  espe- 
cially in  the  second  half  of  the  prophecies  of  Isaiah,  and 
it  were  much  to  be  desired  that  the  Revised  Version  had 

VOL.  II.  2  b 


386  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH      [ch.  l. 

adopted  some  means  of  showing  an  English  reader  the 
instances,  since  the  expression  suggests  a  very  interest- 
ing and  pathetic  view  of  God's  relation  to  His  people. 

I.  Let  me  state  briefly  the  qualifications  and  offices  of 
the  kinsman-redeemer,  '  the  Goel. ' 

The  qualifications  may  be  all  summed  up  in  one — that 
he  must  be  the  nearest  blood  relation  of  the  person 
whose  Goel  he  was.  He  might  be  brother,  or  less 
nearly  related,  but  this  was  essential,  that  of  all  living 
men,  he  was  the  most  closely  connected.  That  qualifi- 
cation has  to  be  kept  well  in  mind  when  thinking  of  the 
transference  of  the  office  to  God  in  His  relation  to  Israel, 
and  through  Israel  to  us. 

Such  being  his  qualification,  what  were  his  duties? 
Mainly  three.  The  first  was  connected  with  property, 
and  is  thus  stated  in  the  words  of  the  law,  '  If  thy 
brother  be  waxen  poor,  and  sell  some  of  his  possession, 
then  shall  his  kinsman  that  is  next  unto  him  come,  and 
shall  redeem  that  which  his  brother  hath  sold '  (Lev. 
XXV.  25,  K.  v.).  The  Mosaic  law  was  very  jealous  of 
large  estates.  The  prophet  pronounced  a  curse  upon 
those  who  joined  '  land  to  land,  and  field  to  field  .  .  . 
that  they  may  be  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  earth. '  One 
great  purpose  steadily  kept  in  view  in  all  the  Mosaic 
land-laws  was  the  prevention  of  the  alienation  of  the 
land  from  its  original  holders,  and  of  its  accumulation 
in  a  few  hands.  The  idea  underlying  the  law  was  that 
of  the  tribal  or  family  ownership — or  rather  occupancy, 
for  God  was  the  owner  and  Israel  but  a  tenant — and  not 
individual  possession.  That  thought  carries  us  back  to 
a  social  state  long  since  passed  away,  but  of  which 
traces  are  still  left  even  among  ourselves.  It  was  car- 
ried out  thoroughly  in  the  law  of  Moses,  however  im- 


V.  34]        THE  KINSMAN-REDEEMER  387 

perfectly  in  actual  practice.  The  singular  institution  of 
the  year  of  Jubilee  operated,  among  other  effects,  to 
check  the  acquisition  of  large  estates.  It  provided  that 
land  which  had  been  alienated  was  to  revert  to  its  origi- 
nal occupants,  and  so,  in  substance,  prohibited  purchase 
and  permitted  only  the  lease  of  land  for  a  maximum 
term  of  fifty  years.  We  do  not  know  how  far  its  enact- 
ments were  a  dead  letter,  but  their  spirit  and  intention 
were  obviously  to  secure  the  land  of  the  tribe  to  the  tribe 
for  ever,  to  keep  the  territory  of  each  distinct,  to  discour- 
age the  creation  of  a  landowning  class,  with  its  conse- 
quent landless  class,  to  prevent  the  extremes  of  poverty 
and  wealth,  and  to  perpetuate  a  diffused,  and  nearly 
uniform,  modest  wellbeing  amongst  a  pastoral  and  agri- 
cultural community,  and  to  keep  all  in  mind  that  the 
land  was  '  not  to  be  sold  for  ever,  for  it  is  Mine, '  saith 
the  Lord. 

The  obligation  on  the  next-of-kin  to  buy  back  alien- 
ated property  was  quite  as  much  imposed  on  him  for  the 
sake  of  the  family  as  of  the  individual. 

The  second  of  his  duties  was  to  buy  back  a  member  of 
his  family  fallen  into  slavery.  '  If  a  stranger  or  so- 
journer with  thee  be  waxen  rich,  and  thy  brother  be 
waxen  poor  beside  him,  and  sell  himself  unto  the 
stranger  .  .  .  after  that  he  is  sold,  he  may  be  re- 
deemed ;  one  of  his  brethren  may  redeem  him. '  The 
price  was  to  vary  according  to  the  time  which  had  to 
elapse  before  the  year  of  Jubilee,  when  all  slaves  were 
necessarily  set  free.  So  Hebrew  slavery  was  entirely 
unlike  the  thing  called  by  the  same  name  in  other  coun- 
tries, and  by  virtue  of  this  power  of  purchase  at  any 
time,  which  was  vested  in  the  neal-est  relative,  taken 
along  with  the  compulsory  manumission  of  all  '  slaves ' 


388  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH     [ch.  l. 

every  fiftieth  year,  came  to  be  substantially  a  voluntary 
engagement  for  a  fixed  time,  which  might  be  ended  even 
before  that  time  had  expired,  if  compensation  for  the 
unexpired  term  was  made  to  the  master. 

It  is  to  be  observed  that  this  provision  applied  only  to 
the  case  of  a  Hebrew  who  had  sold  himself.  No  other 
person  could  sell  a  man  into  slavery.  And  it  applied 
only  to  the  case  of  a  Hebrew  who  had  sold  himself  to  a 
foreigner.  No  Jew  was  allowed  to  hold  a  Jew  as  a 
slave.  '  If  thy  brother  be  waxen  poor  with  thee,  and 
sell  himself  unto  thee,  thou  shalt  not  make  him  to  serve 
as  a  bondservant;  as  an  hired  servant,  and  as  a  so- 
journer, he  shall  be  with  thee  '  (Lev.  xxv.  39,  R.  V.). 

The  last  of  the  offices  of  the  kinsman -redeemer  was 
that  of  avenging  the  blood  of  a  murdered  relative.  If  a 
man  were  stricken  to  death,  it  became  a  solemn  obliga- 
tion to  exact  life  for  life,  and  the  blood-feud  incumbent 
on  all  the  family  was  especially  binding  on  the  next-of- 
kin.  The  obligation  shocks  a  modern  mind,  accustomed 
to  relegate  all  punishment  to  the  action  of  law  which 
no  criminal  thinks  of  resisting.  But  customs  and  laws 
are  unfairly  estimated  when  the  state  of  things  which 
they  regulated  is  forgotten  or  confused  with  that  of 
to-day.  The  law  of  blood-feud  among  the  Hebrews  was 
all  in  the  direction  of  restricting  the  wild  justice  of  re- 
venge, and  of  entrusting  it  to  certain  chosen  persons 
out  of  the  kindred  of  the  murdered  man.  The  savage 
vendetta  was  too  deeply  engrained  in  the  national  habits 
to  be  done  away  with  altogether.  All  that  was  for  the 
time  possible  was  to  check  and  systematise  it,  and  this 
was  done  by  the  institution  in  question,  which  did  not 
so  much  put  the  sword  into  the  hand  of  the  next-of-kin 
as  strike  it  out  of  the  hand  of  all  the  rest  of  the  clan. 


V.  34]        THE  KINSMAN-REDEEMER  389 

These,  then,  were  the  main  parts  of  the  duty  of  the  Goel, 
the  kinsman-redeemer — buying  back  the  alienated  land, 
purchasing  the  freedom  of  the  man  who  had  voluntarily 
sold  himself  as  a  slave,  and  avenging  the  slaying  of  a 
kinsman. 

II.  Notice  the  grand  mysterious  transference  of  this 
office  to  Jehovah. 

This  singular  institution  was  gradually  discerned  to  be 
charged  with  lofty  meaning  and  to  be  capable  of  being 
turned  into  a  dim  shadowing  of  something  greater  than 
itself.  You  will  find  that  God  begins  to  be  spoken  of 
in  the  later  portions  of  Scripture  as  the  Kinsman-Ee- 
deemer.  I  reckon  eighteen  instances,  of  which  thirteen 
are  in  the  second  half  of  Isaiah.  The  reference  is,  no 
doubt,  mainly  to  the  great  deliverance  from  captivity  in 
Egypt  and  Babylon,  but  the  thought  sweeps  a  much 
wider  circle  and  goes  much  deeper  down  than  these  his- 
torical facts.  There  was  in  it  some  dim  feeling  that 
though  God  was  separated  from  them  by  all  the  dis- 
tance between  finitude  and  infinitude,  yet  they  were 
jiearer  to  Him  than  to  any  one  else ;  that  the  nearest 
living  relation  whom  these  poor  persecuted  Jews  had 
was  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  beneath  whose  wings  they  might 
come  to  trust.  Therefore  does  the  prophet  kindle  into 
rapture  and  triumphant  confidence  as  he  thinks  that  the 
Lord  of  Hosts,  mighty,  unspeakable,  high  above  our 
thoughts,  our  words,  or  our  praise,  is  Israel's  Kinsman, 
and,  therefore,  their  Eedeemer.  How  profound  a  con- 
sciousness that  man  was  made  in  the  image  of  God,  and 
that,  in  spite  of  all  the  gulf  between  finite  and  infinite, 
and  the  yet  deeper  gulf  between  sinful  man  and  right- 
eous God,  He  was  closer  to  a  poor  struggling  soul  than 
even  the  dearest  were,   must  have  been  at  all  events 


390  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH      [ch.  l. 

dawning  on  the  prophet  who  dared  to  think  of  the  Holy 
One  in  the  Heavens  as  Israel's  Kinsman.  No  doubt,  he 
was  dwelling  mostly  on  historical  outward  deliverances 
wrought  for  the  nation,  and  his  idea  of  Israel's  kinship 
to  God  applied  to  the  people,  not  to  individuals,  and 
meant  chiefly  that  the  nation  had  been  chosen  for  God's. 
But  still  the  thought  must  have  been  felt  to  be  great  and 
wonderful,  and  some  faint  apprehension  of  the  yet 
deeper  sense  in  which  it  is  true  that  God  is  the  next-of- 
kin  to  every  soul  and  ready  to  be  its  Kedeemer,  would 
no  doubt  begin  to  be  felt. 

The  deepening  of  the  idea  from  a  reference  to  external 
and  national  deliverances,  and  the  large,  dim  hopes 
which  clustered  round  it,  may  be  illustrated  by  one  or 
two  significant  instances.  Take,  for  example,  that  mys- 
terious and  very  beautiful  utterance  in  the  Book  of  Job, 
where  the  man,  in  the  very  depth  of  his  despair,  and 
just  because  there  is  not  a  human  being  that  has  any 
drop  of  pity  for  him,  turns  from  earth,  and  striking  con- 
fidence out  of  his  very  despair,  like  fire  from  flint,  sees 
there  his  Kinsman-Redeemer.  '  I  know  that  my  Re- 
deemer liveth. '  Men  may  mock  him,  friends  may  turn 
against  him,  the  wife  of  his  bosom  may  tempt  him,  com- 
forters may  pour  vitriol  instead  of  oil  into  his  wounds, 
yet  he,  sitting  on  his  dunghill  there,  poverty-stricken 
and  desolate,  knows  that  God  is  of  kin  to  him,  and  will 
do  the  kinsman's  part  by  him.  The  very  metaphor  im- 
plies that  the  divine  intervention  which  he  expects  is  to 
take  place  after  his  death.  It  was  a  dead  man  whose 
blood  the  Goel  avenged.  Thus  the  view  which  sees  in 
the  subsequent  words  a  hope,  however  dim  and  unde- 
fined, of  an  experience  of  a  divine  manifestation  on  his 
behalf  beyond  the  grave  is  the  only  one  which  gives  its 


V.  34]        THE  KINSMAN-REDEEMER  391 

full  force  to  the  central  idea  of  the  passage,  as  well  as 
to  the  obscure  individual  expressions.  Most  strikingly, 
then,  he  goes  on  to  say,  carrying  out  the  allusion,  '  and 
that  he  shall  stand  at  the  last  upon  the  dust. '  Little 
did  it  boot  the  murdered  man,  lying  there  stark,  with 
the  knife  in  his  bosom,  that  the  murderer  should  be  slain 
by  the  swift  justice  of  his  kinsman-avenger,  but  Job  felt 
that,  in  some  mysterious  way,  God  would  appear  for  him, 
after  he  had  been  laid  in  the  dust,  and  that  he  would 
somehow  share  in  the  gladness  of  His  manifestation — for 
he  believes  that  '  without  his  flesh '  he  will  see  God, 
'  whom  I  shall  see  for  myself,  and  mine  eyes  shall  be- 
hold, and  not  another. '  Large  and  mysterious  hopes  are 
gathering  round  the  metaphor,  which  flash  some  light 
into  the  darkness  of  the  grave,  and  give  to  the  troubled 
soul  the  assurance  that  when  life  with  all  its  troubles  is 
past,  and  flesh  has  seen  corruption,  the  inmost  personal 
being  of  every  man  who  commits  his  cause  to  God  will 
behold  Him  coming  forth  his  Kinsman-Redeemer. 

Another  illustration  of  the  hopes  which  gathered 
round  this  image  is  found  in  the  great  psalm  which 
prophesies  of  the  true  King  of  Peace,  in  language  too 
wide  for  any  poetical  licence  to  warrant  if  intended  only 
to  describe  a  Jewish  king  (Ps.  Ixxii.  14).  The  universal 
dominion  of  this  great  King  is  described  in  terms  which, 
though  they  may  be  partly  referred  to  the  Jewish  mon- 
archy at  its  greatest  expansion,  sweep  far  beyond  its 
bounds  in  exulting  anticipation  that  '  all  kings  shall 
fall  down  before  Him,  all  nations  shall  serve  Him.' 
The  reason  for  this  world-wide  dominion  is  not  military 
power,  as  was  the  case  with  the  warrior  kings  of  old, 
who  bound  nations  together  for  a  little  while  in  an  artifi- 
cial unity  with  iron  chains,  but  His  dominion  is  univer- 


392  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH     [ch.  l. 

sal,  ^  for  He  shall  deliver  the  needy  when  he  crieth  .  .  . 
He  shall  redeem  their  souls  from  oppression  and  vio- 
lence, and  precious  shall  their  blood  be  in  His  sight.' 
Two  of  the  functions  of  the  Kinsman-Eedeemer  are  here 
united.  He  buys  back  slaves  from  their  tyrannous  mas- 
ters, and  He  avenges  their  shed  blood.  And  because 
His  Kingdom  is  a  kingdom  of  gentle  pity  and  loving 
help,  because  He  is  of  the  same  blood  with  His  subjects, 
and  brings  liberty  to  the  captives,  therefore  it  is  univer- 
sal and  everlasting.  For  the  strongest  thing  in  all  the 
world  is  love,  and  He  who  can  staunch  men's  wounds, 
and  will  hear  their  cries  and  help  them,  will  rule  them 
with  authority  which  conquerors  cannot  wield. 

This  universal  King,  the  kinsman  and  the  sovereign 
of  all  the  needy,  is  not  God.  A  human  figure  is  rising 
before  the  prophet-psalmist's  eye,  whose  meekness  as 
well  as  His  majesty,  and  whose  kingdom  as  well  as  His 
redeeming  power,  seem  to  pass  beyond  human  limits. 
Divine  offices  seem  to  be  devolved  on  a  man's  shoulders. 
Dim  hopes  are  springing  which  point  onwards.  So  that 
great  psalm  leads  us  a  step  further. 

III.  See  the  perfect  fulfilment  of  this  divine  office  by 
the  man  Christ  Jesus. 

Job's  anticipation  and  the  psalmist's  rapturous  vision 
are  fulfilled  in  the  Incarnate  Word,  in  whom  God  comes 
near  to  us  all  and  makes  Himself  kindred  to  our  flesh, 
that  He  may  discharge  all  those  blessed  offices,  of  re- 
deeming from  slavery,  of  recovering  our  alienated  in- 
heritance, and  of  guarding  our  lives,  which  demand  at 
once  divine  power  and  human  nearness.  Christ  is  our 
Kinsman.  True,  the  divine  nature  and  the  human  are 
nearly  allied,  so  that  even  apart  from  the  Incarnation, 
men  may  feel  that  none  is  so  truly  and  closely  akin  to 


V.  34]        THE  KINSMAN-REDEEMER  393 

them  as  their  Father  in  Heaven  is.  But  how  much 
more  blessed  than  even  that  kinship  is  the  consanguinity 
of  Christ,  who  is  doubly  of  kin  to  each  soul  of  man,  both 
because  in  His  true  manhood  He  is  bone  of  our  bone  and 
flesh  of  our  flesh,  and  because  in  His  divinity  He  is 
nearer  to  us  than  the  closest  human  kindred  can  ever 
be.  By  both  He  comes  so  near  to  us  that  we  may  clasp 
Him  by  our  faith,  and  rest  upon  Him,  and  have  Him 
for  our  nearest  friend,  our  brother.  He  is  nearer  to 
each  of  us  than  our  dearest  is.  He  loves  us  with  the 
love  of  kindred,  and  can  fill  our  hearts  and  wills,  and 
help  our  weakness  in  better,  more  inward  ways  than  all 
sympathy  and  love  of  human  hearts  can  do.  Between 
the  atoms  of  the  densest  of  material  bodies  there  is  an 
interspace  of  air,  as  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  everything 
is  compressible  if  you  can  find  the  force  sufficient  to  com- 
press it.  That  is  to  say,  in  the  material  universe  no  par- 
ticle touches  another.  And  so  in  the  spiritual  region, 
there  is  an  awful  film  of  separation  between  each  of  us 
and  all  others,  however  closely  we  may  be  united.  We 
each  live  on  our  own  little  island  in  the  deep,  '  with 
echoing  straits  between  us  thrown. '  We  have  a  solemn 
consciousness  of  personality,  of  responsibility  unshared 
by  any,  of  a  separate  destiny  parting  us  from  our  dear- 
est. Arms  may  be  twined,  but  they  must  be  unlinked 
some  day,  and  each  in  turn  must  face  the  awful  solitude 
of  death,  as  each  has  really  faced  that  scarcely  less  aw- 
ful solitude  of  life,  alone.  But  '  he  that  is  joined  to  the 
Lord  is  one  spirit,'  and  our  kinsman,  Christ,  will  come 
so  near  to  us,  that  we  shall  be  in  Him  and  He  in  us, 
one  spirit  and  one  life.  He  is  your  nearest  relation, 
nearer  than  husband,  wife,  parent,  brother,  sister,  or 
friend.     He  is  nearer  to  you  than  your  very  selves.     He 


394  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH     [ch.  l. 

is  your  better  self.  That  is  His  qualification  for  His 
office. 

Because  He  is  man's  kinsman,  He  buys  back  His 
enslaved  brethren.  The  bondage  from  which  '  one  of 
His  brethren  '  might  '  redeem  '  the  Israelite  was  a  volun- 
tary bondage  into  which  he  had  sold  himself.  And 
such  is  our  slavery.  None  can  rob  us  of  our  freedom 
but  ourselves.  The  world  and  the  flesh  and  the  devil 
cannot  put  their  chains  on  us  unless  our  own  wills  hold 
out  our  hands  for  the  manacles. 

And,  alas!  it  is  often  an  unsuspected  slavery.  '  How 
sayest  thou,  ye  shall  be  made  free.  We  were  never  in 
bondage  to  any  man,'  boasted  the  angry  disputants 
with  Christ.  And  if  they  had  lifted  up  their  eyes  they 
might  have  seen  from  the  Temple  courts  in  which  they 
stood,  the  citadel  full  of  Roman  soldiers,  and  perhaps 
the  golden  eagles  gleaming  in  the  sunshine  on  the  lofti- 
est battlements.  Yet  with  that  strange  power  of  ignor- 
ing disagreeable  facts  they  dared  to  assert  their  freedom. 
'  Never  in  bondage  to  any  man! ' — what  about  Egypt, 
and  Assyria,  and  Babylon?  Had  there  never  been  an 
Antiochus?  Was  Eome  a  reality?  Did  it  lay  no  yoke 
on  them?     Was  it  all  a  dream? 

Some  of  us  are  just  as  foolish,  and  try  as  desperately 
to  annihilate  facts  by  ignoring  them,  and  to  make  our- 
selves free  by  passionately  denying  that  we  are  slaves. 
But  '  he  that  committeth  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin. '  That 
sounds  a  paradox.  I  am  master  of  my  own  actions,  you 
may  say,  and  never  freer  than  when  I  break  the  bonds 
of  right  and  duty  and  choose  to  do  what  is  contrary  to 
them,  for  no  reason  on  earth  but  because  I  choose. 
That  is  liberty,  emancipation  from  the  burdensome  re- 
straints which  your  narrow  preaching  about    law  and 


V.  34]      THE  KINSMAN  REDEEMER  395 

conscience  would  impose.  Yes,  you  are  masters  of  your 
actions,  and  your  sinful  actions  very  soon  become  mas- 
ters of  you.  Do  we  not  know  that  that  is  true?  You 
fall  into,  or  walk  into  a  habit,  and  then  it  gets  the  mas- 
tery of  you,  and  you  cannot  get  rid  of  it.  Whosoever 
sets  his  foot  upon  that  slippery  inclined  plane  of  wrong- 
doing, after  he  has  gone  a  little  way,  gravitation  is  too 
much  for  him  and  away  he  goes  down  the  hill.  '  Who- 
soever committeth  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin.'  Did  you  ever 
try  to  kill  a  bad  habit,  a  vice?  Did  you  find  it  easy 
work?  Was  it  not  your  master?  You  thought  that  a 
chain  no  stronger  than  a  spider's  web  was  round  your 
wrist  till  you  tried  to  break  it ;  and  then  you  found  it  a 
chain  of  adamant.  Many  men  who  boast  themselves 
free  are  '  tied  and  bound  with  the  cords  of  their  sins. ' 

Dreaming  of  freedom,  you  have  sold  yourself,  and 
that  'for  nought.'     Is  that  not  true,  tragically  true? 

What  have  you  made  out  of  sin?  Is  the  game  worth 
the  candle?  Will  it  continue  to  be  so?  Ye  shall  be  re- 
deemed without  money,  for  Jesus  Christ  laid  down  His 
life  for  you  and  me,  that  by  His  death  we  might  receive 
forgiveness  and  deliverance  from  the  power  of  sin.  And 
so  your  Kinsman,  nearer  to  you  than  all  else,  has  bought 
you  back.  Do  not  refuse  the  offered  emancipation,  but 
'  if  thou  mayest  be  made  free,  use  it  rather. '  Be  not 
like  the  spiritless  slaves,  for  whose  servile  choice  the  law 
provided,  who  had  rather  remain  bond  than  go  out  free. 
Surely  when  Christ  calls  you  to  liberty,  you  will  not 
turn  from  Him  to  the  tyrannous  masters  whom  you  have 
served,  and,  like  the  Hebrew  slave,  let  them  fasten  you 
to  their  door-posts  with  their  awl  through  your  ear.  Do 
you  hug  your  chains  and  prefer  jour  bondage? 

Your  Kinsman-Redeemer  brings  back  your  squandered 


396  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH      [ch.  l. 

inheritance,  which  is  God.  God  is  the  only  possession 
that  makes  a  man  rich.  He  alone  is  worth  calling  '  my 
portion.'  It  is  only  when  we  have  God  in  our  hearts, 
God  in  our  heads,  God  in  our  souls,  God  in  our  life — it 
is  only  when  we  love  Him,  and  think  about  Him,  and 
obey  Him,  and  bring  our  characters  into  harmony  with 
Him,  and  so  possess  Him — it  is  only  then  that  we  be- 
come truly  rich.  No  other  possession  corresponds  to  our 
capacities  so  as  to  fill  up  all  our  needs  and  satisfy  all  our 
being.  No  other  possession  passes  into  our  very  sub- 
stance and  becomes  inseparable  from  ourselves.  So  the 
mystical  fervour  of  the  psalmist's  devotion  spoke  a  sim- 
ple prose  truth  when  he  exclaimed,  '  The  Lord  is  the 
portion  of  mine  inheritance  and  of  my  cup. ' 

We  have  squandered  our  inheritance.  We  have 
sinned  away  fellowship  with  God.  We  have  flung  away 
our  true  wealth,  '  wasted  our  substance  in  riotous  liv- 
ing. '  And  here  is  our  Elder  Brother,  our  nearest  rela- 
tive, who  has  always  been  with  the  Father ;  but  who, 
instead  of  grudging  the  prodigals  their  fatted  calf  and 
their  hearty  welcome  when  they  come  back,  has  Him- 
self, by  the  sacrifice  of  Himself,  won  for  them  the  inher- 
itance, its  earnest  in  the  possession  of  God's  spirit  here 
and  its  completion  in  the  broad  fields  of  '  the  inheritance 
of  the  saints  in  light, '  the  entire  fruition  and  possession 
of  the  divine  in  the  life  to  come.  '  If  children,  then 
heirs,  heirs  of  God  and  joint  heirs  with  Christ. ' 

Your  Kinsman-Kedeemer  will  keep  your  lives  under 
His  care,  and  be  ready  to  plead  your  cause.  '  He  that 
touches  you,  touches  the  apple  of  Mine  eye. '  'Here- 
proved  kings  for  their  sake,  saying.  Touch  not  Mine 
anointed.'  Not  in  vain  does  the  cry  go  up  to  Him, 
*  Avenge,  0  Lord,  Thy  slaughtered  saints, ' — and  if  no 


V.  34]         THE  KINSMAN-REDEEMER         397 

apparent  retribution  has  followed,  and  if  often  His  ser- 
vant's blood  seems  to  have  been  shed  in  vain,  still  we 
know  that  it  has  often  been  the  seed  of  the  Church,  and 
that  He  who  puts  our  tears  into  His  bottle  will  not 
count  our  blood  less  precious  in  His  sight.  So  we  may 
rest  confident  that  our  Kinsman-Redeemer  will  charge 
Himself  with  pleading  our  cause  and  intervening  in  our 
behalf,  that  He  will  compass  us  about  with  His  protec- 
tion, and  that  we  are  knit  so  close  to  Him  that  our  woes 
and  foes  are  His,  and  that  we  cannot  die  as  long  as  He 
lives. 

So,  dear  brethren,  be  sure  of  this,  that  if  only  you  will 
take  Christ  for  your  Saviour  and  brother,  your  Helper 
and  Friend,  if  only  you  will  rest  yourself  upon  that 
complete  sacrifice  which  He  has  made  for  the  sins  of  the 
world,  He  will  give  you  liberty,  and  restore  your  lost  in- 
heritance, and  your  blood  shall  be  precious  in  His  sight, 
and  He  will  keep  His  hand  around  you  and  preserve 
you ;  and  finally  will  bring  you  into  His  home  and  yours. 
'  In  Him  we  have  redemption  through  His  blood, '  and 
He  comes  to  every  one  of  you  now,  even  through  my 
poor  lips,  with  His  ancient  word  of  merciful  invitation : 
'  Behold!  I  have  blotted  out  as  a  cloud  thy  sins  and  as 
a  thick  cloud  thy  transgressions.  Turn  unto  Me,  for  I 
have  redeemed  thee. ' 


*AS  SODOM' 

'Zedekiah  was  one  and  twenty  years  old  when  he  began  to  reign,  and 
he  reigned  eleven  years  in  Jerusalem.  And  his  mother's  name  was  Ham- 
utal  the  daughter  of  Jeremiah  of  Libnah.  2.  And  he  did  that  which  was 
evil  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord,  according  to  all  that  Jehoiakim  had  done. 
3.  For  through  the  anger  of  the  Lord  it  came  to  pass  in  Jerusalem  and 
Judah,  till  he  had  cast  them  out  from  his  presence,  that  Zedekiah  rebelled 
against  the  king  of  Babylon.  4.  And  it  came  to  pass,  in  the  ninth  year  of 
his  reign,  in  the  tenth  month,  in  the  tenth  day  of  the  month,  that  Nebu- 
chadrezzar king  of  Babylon  came,  he  and  all  his  army,  against  Jerusalem, 
and  pitched  against  it,  and  built  forts  against  it  round  about.  5.  So  the 
citj'  was  besieged  unto  the  eleventh  year  of  king  Zedekiah.  6.  And  in 
the  fourth  month,  in  the  ninth  day  of  the  month,  the  famine  was  sore  in 
the  city,  so  that  there  was  no  bread  for  the  people  of  the  land.  7.  Then 
the  city  was  broken  up,  and  all  the  men  of  war  fled,  and  went  forth  out  of 
the  city  by  night  by  the  way  of  the  gate  between  the  two  walls,  which  was 
by  the  king's  garden;  (now  the  Chaldeans  were  by  the  city  round  about:) 
and  they  went  by  the  way  of  the  plain.  8.  But  the  army  of  the  Chaldeans 
pursued  after  the  king,  and  overtook  Zedekiah  in  the  plains  of  Jericho; 
and  all  his  army  was  scattered  from  him.  9.  Then  they  took  the  king,  and 
carried  him  up  unto  the  king  of  Babylon  to  Riblah  in  the  land  of  Hamath; 
where  he  gave  judgment  upon  him.  10.  And  the  king  of  Babylon  slew 
the  sons  of  Zedekiah  before  his  eyes:  he  slew  also  all  the  princes  of  Judah 
in  Riblah.  11.  Then  he  put  out  the  eyes  of  Zedekiah;  and  the  king  of 
Babylon  bound  him  in  chains,  and  carried  him  to  Babylon,  and  put  him 
in  prison  till  the  day  of  his  death.' — Jer.  lii.  1-11. 

This  account  of  the  fall  of  Jerusalem  is  all  but  identical 
with  that  in  2  Kings  xxv.  It  was  probably  taken  thence 
by  some  editor  of  Jeremiah's  prophecies,  perhaps  Ba- 
ruch,  who  felt  the  appropriateness  of  appending  to  these 
the  verification  of  them  in  that  long-foretold  and  disbe- 
lieved judgment. 

The  absence  of  every  expression  of  emotion  is  most 
striking.  In  one  sentence  the  wrath  of  God  is  pointed 
to  as  the  cause  of  all ;  and,  for  the  rest,  the  tragic  facts 
which  wrung  the  writer's  heart  are  told  in  brief,  pas- 
sionless sentences,  which  sound  liker  the  voice  of  the  re- 
cording angel  than  that  of  a  man  who  had  lived  through 
the  misery  which  he  recounts.  The  Book  of  Lamenta- 
tions weeps  and  sobs  with  the  grief  of  the  devout  Jew ; 
but  the  historian  smothers  feeUng  while  he  tells  of  God's 
righteous  judgment. 

396 


vs.  1-11]  *AS  SODOM'  S99 

Zedekiah  owed  his  throne  to  '  the  king  of  Babylon, ' 
and,  at  first,  was  his  obedient  vassal,  himself  going  to 
Babylon  (Jer.  li.  59)  and  swearing  allegiance  (Ezek. 
xvii.  13).  Bat  rebellion  soon  followed,  and  the  perjured 
young  king  once  more  pursued  the  fatal,  fascinating 
policy  of  alliance  with  Egypt.  There  could  be  but  one 
end  to  that  madness,  and,  of  course,  the  Chaldean 
forces  soon  appeared  to  chastise  this  presumptuous  little 
monarch,  who  dared  to  defy  the  master  of  the  world. 
Our  narrative  curtails  its  account  of  Zedekiah 's  reign, 
bringing  into  strong  relief  only  the  two  facts  of  his  fol- 
lowing Jehoiakim's  evil  ways,  and  his  rebellion  against 
Babylon.  But  behind  the  rash,  ignorant  young  man,  it 
sees  God  working,  and  traces  all  the  insane  bravado  by 
which  he  was  ruining  his  kingdom  and  himself  to  God's 
'  wrath,'  not  thereby  diminishing  Zedekiah's  responsibil- 
ity for  his  own  acts,  but  declaring  that  his  being  '  given 
over  to  a  reprobate  mind  '  was  the  righteous  divine  pun- 
ishment for  past  sin. 

An  eighteen  months'  agony  is  condensed  into  three 
verses  (Jer.  Hi.  4-6),  in  which  the  minute  care  to  specify 
dates  pathetically  reveals  the  depth  of  the  impression 
which  the  first  appearance  of  the  besieging  army  made, 
and  the  deeper  wound  caused  by  the  city's  fall.  The 
memory  of  these  days  has  not  faded  yet,  for  both  are 
still  kept  as  fasts  by  the  synagogue.  We  look  with  the 
narrator's  eye  at  the  deliberate  massing  of  the  immense 
besieging  force  drawing  its  coils  round  the  doomed  city, 
like  a  net  round  a  deer,  and  mark  with  him  the  piling 
of  the  mounds,  and  the  erection  on  them  of  siege-towers. 
We  hear  of  no  active  siege  operations  till  the  final 
assault.  Famine  was  Nebuchadnezzar's  best  general. 
'  Sitting  down  they  watched  '  her  '  there, '  and  grimly 


400  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  lii. 

waited  till  hunger  became  unbearable.  We  can  fill  up 
much  of  the  outline  in  this  narrative  from  the  rest  of 
Jeremiah,  which  gives  us  a  vivid  and  wretched  picture 
of  imbecility,  divided  counsels,  and  mad  hatred  of  God's 
messenger,  blind  refusal  to  see  facts,  and  self-confidence 
which  no  disaster  could  abate.  And,  all  the  while,  the 
monstrous  serpent  was  slowly  tightening  its  folds  round 
the  struggHng,  helpless  rabbit.  We  have  to  imagine 
all  the  misery. 

The  narrative  hurries  on  to  its  close.  What  wide- 
spread and  long-drawn-out  privation  that  one  sentence 
covers :  '  The  famine  was  sore  in  the  city,  so  that  there 
was  no  bread  for  the  people'!  Lamentations  is  full  of 
the  cries  of  famished  children  and  mothers  who  eat  the 
fruit  of  their  own  bodies.  At  last,  on  the  memorable 
black  day,  the  ninth  of  the  fourth  month  (say  July),  '  a 
breach  was  made, '  and  the  Chaldean  forces  poured  in 
through  it.  Jeremiah  xxxix.  3  tells  the  names  of  the 
Babylonian  ofiQcers  who  '  sat  in  the  middle  gate  '  of  the 
Temple,  polluting  it  with  their  presence.  There  seems 
to  have  been  no  resistance  from  the  enfeebled,  famished 
people ;  but  apparently  some  of  the  priests  were  slain  in 
the  sanctuary,  perhaps  in  the  act  of  defending  it  from 
the  entrance  of  the  enemy.  The  Chaldeans  would  enter 
from  the  north,  and,  while  they  were  establishing  them- 
selves in  the  Temple,  Zedekiah  '  and  all  the  men  of  war  ' 
fled,  stealing  out  of  the  city  by  a  covered  way  between 
two  walls,  on  the  south  side,  and  leaving  the  city  to  the 
conqueror,  without  striking  a  blow.  They  had  talked 
large  when  danger  was  not  near;  but  braggarts  are 
cowards,  and  they  thought  now  of  nothing  but  their  own 
worthless  lives.  Then,  as  always,  the  men  who  feared 
God  feared  nothing  else,  and  the  men  who  scoffed  at  the 


vs.  1-11]  'AS  SODOM  401 

day  of  retribution,  when  it  was  far  off,  were  unmanned 
with  terror  when  it  dawned. 

The  investment  had  not  been  complete  on  the  southern 
side,  and  the  fugitives  got  away  across  Kedron  and  on 
to  the  road  to  Jericho,  their  purpose,  no  doubt,  being  to 
put  the  Jordan  between  them  and  the  enemy.  One  can 
picture  that  stampede  down  the  rocky  way,  the  anxious 
looks  cast  backwards,  the  confusion,  the  weariness,  the 
despair  when  the  rush  of  the  pursuers  overtook  the  fam- 
ine-weakened mob.  In  sight  of  Jericho,  which  had  wit- 
nessed the  first  onset  of  the  irresistible  desert-hardened 
host  under  Joshua,  the  last  king  of  Israel,  deserted  by 
his  army,  was  '  taken  in  their  pits, '  as  hunters  take  a 
wild  beast.  The  march  to  Eiblah,  in  the  far  north, 
would  be  full  of  indignities  and  of  physical  suffering. 
The  soldiers  of  that  '  bitter  and  hasty  '  nation  would  not 
spare  him  one  insult  or  act  of  cruelty,  and  he  had  a  tor- 
mentor within  worse  than  they.  '  Why  did  I  not  listen 
to  the  prophet?  What  a  fool  I  have  been!  If  I  had 
only  my  time  to  come  over  again,  how  differently  I 
would  do! '  The  miserable  self-reproaches,  which  shoot 
their  arrows  into  our  hearts  when  it  is  too  late,  would 
torture  Zedekiah,  as  they  will  sooner  or  later  do  to  all 
who  did  not  listen  to  God's  message  while  there  was  yet 
time.  The  sinful,  mad  past  kept  him  company  on  one 
hand ;  and,  on  the  other,  there  attended  him  a  dark,  if 
doubtful,  future.  He  knew  that  he  was  at  the  disposal 
of  a  fierce  conqueror,  whom  he  had  deeply  incensed,  and 
who  had  little  mercy.  '  What  will  become  of  me  when 
I  am  face  to  face  with  Nebuchadnezzar?  Would  that  I 
had  kept  subject  to  him ! '  A  past  gone  to  ruin,  a  pres- 
ent honey-combed  with  gnawing  remorse  and  dread,  a 
future  threatening,  problematical,  but  sure  to  be  penal 

VOL.  II.  2  c 


402  THE  BOOK  OF  JEREMIAH  [ch.  lii. 

— these  were  what  this  foolish  young  king  had  won  by 
showing  his  spirit  and  despising  Jeremiah's  warnings. 
It  is  always  a  mistake  to  fly  in  the  face  of  God's  com- 
mands. All  sin  is  folly,  and  every  evildoer  might  say 
with  poor  Eobert  Burns : 

'I  backward  cast  my  e'e 

On  prospects  drear! 
An'  forward,  tho'  I  canna  see, 

I  guess  an'  fear.' 

Nebuchadnezzar  was  in  Riblah,  away  up  in  the  north, 
waiting  the  issue  of  the  campaign.  Zedekiah  was  noth- 
ing to  him  but  one  of  the  many  rebellious  vassals  of 
whom  he  had  to  make  an  example  lest  rebellion  should 
spread,  and  who  was  especially  guilty  because  he  was 
Nebuchadnezzar's  own  nominee,  and  had  sworn  alle- 
giance. Policy  and  his  own  natural  disposition  reinforced 
by  custom  dictated  his  barbarous  punishment  meted  to 
the  unfortunate  kinglet  of  the  petty  kingdom  that  had 
dared  to  perk  itself  up  against  his  might.  How  little  he 
knew  that  he  was  the  executioner  of  God's  decrees! 
How  little  the  fact  that  he  was  so,  diminished  his  re- 
sponsibility for  his  cruelty!  The  savage  practice  of  blind- 
ing captive  kings,  so  as  to  make  them  harmless  and  save 
all  trouble  with  them,  was  very  common.  Zedekiah  was 
carried  to  Babylon,  and  thus  was  fulfilled  Ezekiel's  enig- 
matical prophecy,  '  I  will  bring  him  to  Babylon,  .  .  . 
yet  shall  he  not  see  it,  though  he  shall  die  there  '  (Ezek. 
xii.  13). 

The  fall  of  Jerusalem  should  teach  us  that  a  nation  is 
a  moral  whole,  capable  of  doing  evil  and  of  receiving 
retribution,  and  not  a  mere  aggregation  of  individuals. 
It  should  teach  us  that  transgression  does  still,  though 
not  so  directly  or  certainly  as  in  the  case  of  Israel,  sap 


vs.  1-11]  *AS  SODOM'  40S 

the  strength  of  kingdoms;  and  that  to-day,  as  truly 
as  of  old,  '  righteousness  exalteth  a  nation. '  It  should 
accustom  us  to  look  on  history  as  not  only  the  result  of 
visible  forces,  but  as  having  behind  it,  and  reaching  its 
end  through  the  visible  forces,  the  unseen  hand  of  God. 
For  Christians,  the  vision  of  the  Apocalypse  contains  the 
ultimate  word  on  '  the  philosophy  of  history. '  It  is  '  the 
Lamb  before  the  Throne, '  who  opens  the  roll  with  the 
seven  seals,  and  lets  the  powers  of  whom  it  speaks  loose 
for  their  march  through  the  world.  It  should  teach  us 
God's  long-suffering  patience  and  loving  efforts  to  escape 
the  necessity  of  smiting,  and  also  God's  rigid  justice, 
which  will  not  shrink  from  smiting  when  all  these  efforts 
have  failed. 


Date  Due 


^  w 


\i 


IIACLAREN 
Isaiah 


v.t 


B  -  Preaching 


